Shezzi43

Under Ashes       Darkness always follows light... it's the way the world works, when the sun goes down... when the fire burns out.  Ash is left, charred remains of a glowing mountain. It may fall from the air... like dead blossom petals as they sway to the ground. I stand in the snow... the 'black snow'. It looks harmless... all the commotion died within the crackling flame. They fall silently, the ashes, they fall in a stiff breeze. The scent is... revolting. It smells like... burnt death. What once stood tall and mighty is nothing but a pile of dust awaiting to be carried away with the winter winds.  What once was strong is weak. What