The rushing of the water
To her ears, music of the earth
The morning's dew tipping the tiny blades
Nestled among the darkened dirt
The sparkles playing in her eyes
From the calling kiss of a sun
Fading slowly, with the cover of clouds
As perhaps even the skies knew what he'd done
The branches of a gentle pine
Reaching in their ache to embrace
The rain splashing, softly and hushed
Joining the tears on her face
The river, whispering
Pleading to cradle her still
The wind with its hand on her back
Seeking to steady her will
Spirits of the land that grew her
Beckoning, beseeching, in peace
Escape from his world, his hands
From the slave he had taught her to be
The pulse of crashing evil
Quickened the blood in her heart
His army so nearly upon her
As she reached for her chance to depart
The palace of natural beauty
Wrapped around as she let go her breath
And the crushing release of the water
Bore her gently to safety, to death.
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