The Unspoken Farewell
Feather.
She whispers, lightly, almost soundless.
She can feel the pain all at once, at the edge of despondence and hopelessness.
A deep empty hollow inside her heart opens up like an abloom flower.
It becomes bigger and bigger, dragging her down to the inferno.
Feather. Feather.
She wants to call, as if the best tranquillizer to thwart her collapsing soul.
And regardless of any attempt, she was inept of making any sound.
She feels like a trapped jailbird, wrecked and torn and lashed myriad times.
She wants to go home, along the littoral,
where Feather used to belong, where they longed for an eternal pacific.
Then the pain arose to galvanize:
She has lost him, her very Feather. That gorgeous and pallid angel.
Feather. Feather.
She shrieked.
