She watched with an indifferent look in her eyes, and a stoic expression that held no emotion.
It held beauty, but despair. The city that burned within its own walls as a maisma of smoke billowed to the atmosphere. Inferno's ravaged the homes of millions, nothing but ruin in its wake. Yet, it was perfectly silent, a symphony of nothingness that washed over the terrain beyond its walls.
Ash fell steadily like snow, covering everything in sight with a thick coat of grey and black. But yet, it was still something of beauty. Even with the bodies that lied scattered throughout the city, the scarlet blood that flowed in torrents in the streets. It was all natural.
Because truly, destruction was beauty, as was death. She leaned back against a dying willow tree, and watched that city until the fire died away, leaving nothing but coals and distant memories.