Silence

         Silence.
         Pure, flawless and eternal.
         Flowing across the lush field, drowning out all thought and idea with its soundless scream. Piercing the delicate ears of the dead. And the dead, who once dwelt here in peaceful sanity, made no move to reply.
         Apollo's sobs cut through the silence as he weeped over his lover's still body. Brushing a lock of hair from the pale face of the mortal who had once been so full of life, the god placed a soft kiss against Hyacinthus's forehead. Unable to hold himself back any longer, he wailed to the silence that surrounded him.
         As his sobs softened he stood, still holding his lover in his arms as silent tears continued to run across his flawless features. Now ready to leave, the god prepared to say goodbye, but was then cut short in amazement as a beautiful flower rose up from the youth's blood.
         Silence.
         No longer seeming as pure, flawless or even eternal as it once had.
         But as it flowed across the lush field, it could never drown out the quiet reply that Hyacinthus sent his love.