Meadowlark Prairie versailles

@Hypnos 

she had never learned to live with her grief, but around.

she often mourned her childhood ( a  bittersweet  unfinished  symphony ), her brother's hadean design and lackadaisical air, her hoarfrost mother and her silent father, reading the rotating nuances of his expressions, forever their protector. missing the clear ponds reflecting her soot-masked visage — now she has no face to show nor a valuable character to fall back on.

her willowy legs gave out of feebleness, her matted and slim figure apparent. the alacrity of the meadowlarks and vast sea of sweeping viridescent, she blinked lethargically.

where have i been?