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
