Alone

And goodness knows

The wicked's lives are lonely

Goodness knows the wicked die alone - Glinda the Good Witch


It is raining, the sky is screaming, its complexion a dark grey

She runs, under a tree, in a cave. Anywhere but the wide open

Winds scar her face, raw red sores on a pale canvass


She finds safety and sanctuary in a rock face shelter

Wrapping the cloak around her, she buries her face

Warm tears fall from her eyes, a phenomenon never before witnessed


She holds out a crimson crystal shard and threw it with such force at the wall

This had caused all the pain and anger, to herself and everyone else

It destroyed homes, but most importantly killed the only person she trusted


It was true; she could bind anything, yet not to her will

Everything she had done, was not her intention

The death and destruction was not her doing


Binding works in strange and unfathomable ways

Some enhance a person's ability of the crystal arts

The others suffer and are manipulated by the power


With no one to guide, or to teach her

She fell down a chasm of despair with no one to save her

No one to care or to live for


Puffy eyes looked up as the rain

The winds seized and the rain slowed to a drizzle

The sun began to shine and highlight the landscapes features


She stood up, retrieving her memory crystal and threw that down the rock face

No one loved or cared for the wicked, why should she?

The calamity was at rest, yet the Storm had just begun