The woman stood at the brink of the precipice, fair and slender under a waxy moon.

Beneath the cliff she balanced precariously upon the edge of, the sea frolicked, waves rippling towards the base as if rushing to look up at the woman in her final moments.

A breeze blew across the surface and caressed her pale smooth skin, teasing through her long golden curls and making the long skirt of her simple white chiffon dress flutter behind her. Her eyes were closed, revealing ids of a pale lavender colour; her rosy lips were slightly parted, as if she made a last wish on the stars that shone above her like tears waiting to fall upon her death.

In her delicate fingers she held a single red rose. The thorns did not prick her palms as she held it out like an offering. The wind claimed several of its petals, and they spiralled elegantly to the sea where they rested for a moment before being swallowed, tracing the path she was soon to follow.

She enjoyed the wind's gentle touch for a few more moments; the last happiness she would feel. She listened to its voice that called plaintively from the still night.

and the wind sang to me

of an ocean of sorrow across which it howled its despair

of the souls who begged to remain undisturbed in their slumber

of a thousand years and a thousand tears

Her full lips turned up in her final smile, and she spread her arms wide, surrendering the rose. She leaned, her bare feet keeping their grip on the grassy cliff's edge until the last moment as she tilted. She fell.

at the edge of the world where the sky meets the sea

you will find the answers that you seek

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