She was beautiful, an elegant grace that swooned those in where she traveled. She didn't say much, but she didn't need to. She'd promise the world and leave with nothing, just a shadow and the faint footprints of her black leather boots on the souls of whom shed swept. The souls in which shed sweep were The Devils and angels in us all. Some swaying the pendulum, uncertain of where to rest to lay their heads, others drawn to the light. They see it so bright before them they could taste it, she tasted it, she craved that taste like it was the last drop of water on earth. All she wanted was to have that light, but the darkness pulled her under deeper and deeper within each soul shed sweep. She had the darkness inside her. It was like the almighty antidote that could make things make sense for her. Seeing darkness within others was a way for her to feel something. Anything but the swooning mourns of those of whom shed sweep. Although so sweet and fragile, almost resided as much as the everlasting cry of a new born baby. She knew it was perfect, so real, but it pained her to feel. Because although a beautiful girl she was, nothing was more beautiful to her then those who didn't find her quite so beautiful. Complicating the simplicity was simple to her. She knows what she really wants, she knows how they really feel, but finding patterns was as easy as looking through a kaleidoscope {cont...}