Burning within her chest, lies acid confusion that halts for no one. Her eyes are painfully dry now an unparchable desert; tears long gone. Agonizing remorse consumes her as she lies there engrossed in bitter thoughts. The morose flap of ebony wings stirs her; outside in the decimating cold. A raven perches on the old gnarled oak by her window iced with delicate frost. In its eyes she sees all three imperfect states of time, but mostly the present. Gentle breeze causes the downy flakes to swirl all around, perfectly pristinely white. Contrasting beautifully against the deep almost blue-black of the raven and midnight sky. The burning feeling has subsided, though each ragged breath still tears at her chest. No fight left anymore in her. The sweet adrenaline rush has faded to numb nothingness, and the spirited defense has given way to confusion and sadness. Her once built-up walls now lie shattered on the unforgiving hardwood floor.
