The Eyes of the Fallen

pencil-sketch-of-sad-boy-sitting-alone-images-badge-makes-art-purple-teardrops-i-cry-342029Down the valley of death,
Falling.
Despair and death,
Calling

Scared.
Sad.
Hopeless.

My end imminent.

The thorns tore at my flesh,
rocks ripped my limbs to the bone.

I could not stop the fall.
I clutched at blades of grass,
Twigs,
Branches.
Dug my fingers into the ground.
My nails broke off in the dirt.

Falling.

A thud.
The bottom.
The end.

Darkness fell.

Alone.

Bleeding.

Crying.

I lay there, curled into a ball.
Weeping softly.

A hand.

Bloody and bare boned.
A frail and faint arm.
A beaten body.

But her eyes.
Her eyes.

Fierce.

Fiery.

Full of life.

Eyes that had seen what I had seen,

Eyes of the fallen.

As I stared into those eyes.
As I took the hand.
As I rose.

She spoke.

“All is well”

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