Rosebud Austin

What they left out

Cinders, bound to the voiceless melody, sung with each exhale the atmosphere would dare present. Fluttered aimlessly along the skyline, set to rest in a temporary state until nature deemed them unworthy and claimed their delicate forms for rebirth. Condensed hydrogen rolled along the pristine azure, bearing diligently crafted crystalline that would soon join ashes and embers in their great descent for a brief, unpracticed choreography. However, their melody would cease to go unnoticed whether they were wary of such or not. It would be the snow fall’s empty steps that she would cling to like a drop of her own blood to keep her mind steady. That it was all indeed still very real no matter how far she sank into the twists and turns of a consciousness saturated in an intangible matter.