Parents and children

Light plays a dancing melody across amber skin. Tiny baby hairs ruffle with the breeze. Two green orbs follow the path of a flying creature of feathers high in the sky. It flies through the wind in a complicated dance of freedom. Fingers toy with slender blades of grass. The regal lips smile at the approach of a young man. She knows him. The smile tries to fight the crystal tears. Yet it wavers and releases the flood. He holds her in his tight embrace as the tears fall one by one in an army of millions. With each tear a memory plays in her head. Christmas, Birthdays, dinner, game nights, each memory from her childhood repeats in never ending horror. They remind her of what she lost. Tears fed the thirsty ground from the two people as they kneel in a sea of green. Never would they bring back the souls which had been buried underneath two grey stones. Writing danced across the stones forever freezing good words about them. Yet nothing could compare to the memories which fall in crystal tears from the eyes of the ones they left behind. The cold skeletal arms which lay beneath the dirt beg to hold their crying daughter. Tears try to quench the fire which stole their parents away. Never will her father march down the aisle to give her in white away. Never will the mother watch as her son becomes a proud father. They will never see the birthdays and holidays to come. They will never age to sit in rocking chairs as tiny children gather round to hear the stories of the old. Instead their bones wait beneath watching from empty sockets as their children try to rebuild a home for their own of new memories even though their memories of them will be the foundation which will never let go.