Wilted Roses and Bleeding Candles

finding love

As I walk alone, down the blackened path, screams of the midnight crow echoes in my ear, my ever searching eyes take in the bleeding candles and wilted roses, coldness creeps down my spine, enveloping around my pale skin, making my bones quiver and shake, As I walk alone, I wonder what it would be like, to be loved, cared for, held, to no longer be left in the endless darkness, to have some shred of light come before me.

Author's Note

deep, lovely, or disturbing?