Daphne's Flame
There was a fire frozen into Daphne's eyes and if you looked deep, you would have seen how it burned with purpose. It burned with passion, burned with determination, burned with barely-held control, but no one can stay this way forever and once the fuel ran out, she was left with a burnt soul. Her blue eyes and sad smile burn into my memory; our walks on the viaduct, hand in hand, had taken on a melancholic tone and I wondered if there would ever be a spark that could wake her from the slumber into which her spirit had slipped. She is ice surrounded by burning torches, doing her best to hide her frost fall tears, but I know they're there and all I can do is watch, stand by her side, and promise to burn all those who stand in her way – our way. We've been dealt with the worst cards the tarot deck had to offer, but I say we burn the Fates and burn the naysayers and listen to the song of their hallowed screams. Burn them all I say and once it's over, perhaps, if I'm lucky, Daphne will find something worth smiling about, hidden in the ashes.