Deafening whispers called her into the woods. The darkness takes her gently in its cold arms. Dead trees with soundless voices cry worries and fears. Is she walking on the path to herself? Drowning in a sea of flowers, tinted like her blood. How can beauty exist in such a sorrowful place? Rays of light try to fight the darkness through dense crowns. Rough wind elicits the leaves their sad melodies. Bony roots try to get her into their fingers. She knew she had to be stronger than her fears. Run faster than her darkest thoughts. Throw off fragments of her old soul to escape her mind. The lonely warrior went into the woods to find herself. When she stepped out she felt taller than the trees.

Image: asewell.tez @ashleysewell13 Script: FineArt4Life @cryptopath96