IRC-Galleria

As the flame of the candle stands still in the biting air, and the silhouettes of a broken man crash to the floor, he rues the day he flew too close to the sun, recalling her smile, as his wings melted and he descended to the depths below. She had spoken of things all too impossible for hearts to behold. Her beauty beckoning his soul, defenseless he fell enamored by her intoxicating charm. She had spoken of things, which he began to believe. This was not supposed to be, screamed the temptress. Empathy being her only vice she constructed a heart shaped tomb, there she swore she would lie and perish, with his wings charred and the pieces of his heart lying in ruins on the floor. She had spoken of things all too impossible for hearts to behold.
He dreams of a day when the candle would begin to flicker in the cold night air, perhaps then he would fly again. He will fly again...