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The Dress
My dress. The only clothing in my land. It is dark. Like a endless night with no stars or moon. Every thread that has been woven into its seams are broken hearts, endless sorrows, and pains. My hair, as dark as ebony and as sharp as onyx, flows down my back like a waterfall of plagues. My skin, as white as freshly fallen snow, pure, sad, and cold. My body gives off no heat. There is no warmth in my world only cold. It surrounded me. It went deep within me, touched my soul and heart, to turn them in to stone. Made me the person I am today. Forever walking the endless fields of a broken heart. I can never leave my world. I can never die. My job is to bring plague, broken hearts, death, and sorrow. I am no god, Just a simple being with the job of death. Every night that wind surrounds me as I sleep, a unforgiving rest, and darkens me, makes me colder, more sorrowful, deeper to reach. I will never leave my world, even if I had a choice I would never return. I will always bring pain. I will always walk the path of the broken hearts, I will never leave these fields.
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