WALKING WITHIN THE GARDENS OF DEATH, he wanders away : nothing can chain him to his final resting place. he's blessed with the FREEDOM of those who no more shall live, immortality, and the graces in which he seems to find himself - respected by god, ignored by the devil - he bent the rules in some strange ways.
In the Purgatory, he finds bliss, away from the cry of the damned, between heaven and hell. But silence and solitude always acompany him, looming over him like birds of doom : ALONE HE GOES, lucky in his sanctity, condemn by his worth. Not even an angel would look down on him an smile : his sentence is forever, slef-inflicted : it is the absence that he represents, a soul that shall never be remarked but by those that do no yet share his fate.
By a tree he sits, looking around him with a superficial curiosity ( it has died long ago ). Eyes of pale blue are set once more on the scenery, a pastoral painting he could retrace even blindfolded. And yet, something shines on the horizon, a warm light that calls for him, strangely. It is with no real purpose than to see it that he walks to this blinding spot of white and yellow, hidding himself behind the hollow corpses of trees. And as his eyes adjust to the light of such a bizarre yet beautiful vision, it is no less than a saint he thinks this soul to be. With flames of auburn framing her delicate face, she seems as FIERCE and cruel as Gabriel, but soft and kind as God wants his child to be. Was she ever human ? โโ Has the Apocalypse day come ? Heaven, hell and Purgatory here seem reunited. Yet, and though fear lingers at your sight, there is only peace that I feel with certainity. Who are you ? โ
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