Not a single trace of blood was drizzled on her body but a small pouch was slyly camouflaged amongst the luscious red roses. Her passport to paradise was a mere droplet of poison that was capable of bringing the gigantic hearts of whales to a halt in seconds.
Continuing down the lifeless flight of stone stairs the temperature decreased with every uncertain step until the merciless temperature claws at any living body leaving them shaking recklessly. Right at the very end of the Arctic cold staircase was a tiny chamber engulfed in pitch black darkness and surrounded in harsh and bitter coldness.
A story written in white chalk radiated from the furthest wall and illuminated the darkness: a story write in rhyme about the story of the bride never to be.
Young love so innocent and sweet
A boy and girl accendentally meet.
For years they enjoyed each others company
Yet she didn't know he was the last note in her symphony
Cunningly plotting revenge
Secretly vowing to avenge...
The chalk trailed it's white dust further across the rigid wall and unexpectedly stopped in mid track. The illuminated chalk released an unearthly glow, a mysterious warmth escaped from the chalk, could it have been a message sent from up above?
Labels: Bride never to be
