The stars reeled and danced above in complex patterns, cosmic lullabies only her ears heard. The darkened water cradling her broken form lapped gently at her skin, rocking a child to sleep while the stars sang. A shaking voice lifted to join the song, a thin, pale limb reaching towards the heavens to feel the smooth surface of the moon on her skin just once. Beneath her fingertips she feels only the warm breeze. The skies deny her. The last of her energy expended, her eyes close to the outside world and darkness creeps in.
With her birth and death marks were left on the world, small nics in the timeline. Ties were built and severed in an instant. When her body comes ashore with the dawn the fisherman will whisper of the angel that fell dead into the water. They will not know the story of an outcast child left to die in the ocean. And she will never know she was an angel, meant to soar the skies with wide wings and hollow bones.
Their legends of angels are perpetuated by the legends of demons across the ocean. Worlds that never touch are so entwined by these ideas. Those cursed and blessed with the wings of the dove are caught in an eternal struggle, balancing these worlds. If they can survive their nights at sea with broken wings and bleeding bodies, they are free to live a world away from their birthplaces. Those who cannot continue the myths of angels doomed to die.
Some touch the moon. Some sink into the depths of the water, lovingly returned to begin their journey once more.
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Lived & Died Where Worlds Collide
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