she stood there, pale skinned, natutral lazy. in her, reddish eyes, couldn't tell if its for pride or pain.

she, stood behind those corral barrels, switching attention between passers and answers, for the last time she couldn't sustain the far end. her horizon has finally become her ground, time has limited her luck, she must loose, in memories she must die.


No ! it is not this time, no! it couldn't, this time is her last, the very last time to hold him, for the last time.

there is a dark bird in the sky, it clacks overhead, everytimw signaling her last blow, her ground is thiner and pale. no emotion seems deep to hide her pain in. would the last day seeing him be a teachable moment?


should she flip in this leap of dispea, the question, Rangs not for answers but her last with him, seems a fight


she stood there alone, lonely and cold like the old metal, rusty bridge beneath her feet, this is death, not for her, but the memory of him.


"This could be a love story written by lover hiding away, or unonymous write known for bitter, sad stories


this story could be told to dead end racers. stories by shadows from the other side, that was this is but just another piece from the Tory of his comic creation,"

© Raincodes