It was a warm, December afternoon. The leaves had already fallen off the trees, so the contrast between the foliage and the weather was evident. I saw her. She sat alone on the park bench waiting. It seemed as though she was looking for someone, or something to approach her. I couldn't help but take notice of her especially in the bright white dress she's had on since this morning. The sun was already falling below the horizon, and the moon rising above it. And in the moonlight, I saw her transformation.
I could see the tragedy in her eyes. The moonlit skies brought out the flawlessness of her skin and her hair blew in the night breeze. I could feel the heartbreak that broke her soul, the scar that time forgot to heal. She sung the lullaby of pain that shadowed the light that was her past. And when she cried it rained - for the earth could not stand to see her tears.
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