xXx Watched xXx
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.
The haunted music floated over the ebony-carved box. The ethereal voices of men and women gave the atmosphere a feel that was of something mysterious and sad, bringing the audience to tears as they watched the box as it was lowered reverently into the soft ground.
Tears fell, useless but meaningul, to the ground, serving as its nourishment.
One man defied his instincts and fought that useless urge back, fought with all of his might to remain stoic, bricklike, for the one he once loved who was now unmoving and unfeeling. Twin pools of ebony swam with a mix of emotion--wholly human and feeling, opposing those who thought him inhuman and cold. Those eyes watched everything, from his lover's quirks and laughter, to his dreams and sadness; from his first illness, to his throes of passion, to his desires, his compassion, his indifference, to his death, to his burial.
The man broke away, unnoticed by the audience (who could care less about this man), and walked haltingly away from the scene before his pace quickened involuntarily, causing him to run like a coward away from his troubles.