Once upon a time, I found myself lost in the woods...

I walked and walked down the bushy trail, until I found a crystal lake beside the velvet tree. It was so still that I thought at first it already died, but then a tiny ripple made its way to the corners of the waters. The muted sound it made sent the wintry breeze brushing against the grey forest, the branches of life shivering in thrill. Shifting my attention back at the sky's mirror, I saw the majestic moon sitting with the constellations; it was cloaked in magic and mysteries. Awestruck, I noticed my mouth curling into a smile. I wanted to be closer to it, to touch it with my bare hands. The shimmering ball had captured my heart, and my wish to steal it from above became stronger. Though what could a powerless wanderer do to achieve that desire? Nothing. Unfortunately, I did not have enough strength to pull it down to the Earth— I did not have the will. I lifted my head, and saw its soft rays giving a dim light to the shadows. How I envied them; they enjoyed the little thing the moon had shared. No, it seemed as if everything was at ease, completely contented with what they had; I loathed that. But why was there such an emotion? The smile on my face tore off to an emotionless mask as I kicked a pebble.

I scanned the vicinity with my eyes half-opened, disappointed to take notice of the five, if not, four living creatures along the horizon. With the silence of the evening deafening my ears, I hummed a song the planet has not heard for over a thousand years. Sweet and bitter and lovely the rhythm was— every soul could relate to it. The lullaby was timeless; it chooses no genre or era. Someone from the Elizabethan Period and the Modern Man may possibly have no other similarities but this. It was also endless; the multi-directional uniformity of this piece may lead to any rest on the music sheet. Truly, the soothing energy released by the song had calmed me down, but not enough to erase my newly realized resentment. As I glared back at the round white floating, the stab on my heart began to ache. I tried not to breathe in— the pungent odor of the surroundings irritated my lungs. My hand slowly grabbed my burning chest; I had no control control over my body whatsoever. The frustration I held gently beckoned— I was dying. Time started ticking once more, and I felt pressure hammering me down. There I stood motionless beside the scenery, and the moon still shone. I asked myself on what to do next; my mind didn't respond. I listened to my scarred heart, but it was too exhausted to speak. I had no one and nothing to rely on, so what I did was utterly unexpected. It wasn't my fault. I had no idea how that went on. I was innocent...

Cracking woods. Towering spikes. Piercing shriek.

In the end, the deep red had flown freely down the sapphire pearl, its tears streaming down even to the tranquil lake. I chose to watch the entire event with my right eye closed, the other uninterested. The spill quickly slithered across the area, reaching my feet and tainting my white shoes with filth. I sighed and turned my back on it, the image of which etched on my mind. The warm liquid continued to crawl up, though I absolutely ignored it. What happened here will never be forgotten, but nonetheless a single word about this shall be kept unheard. The beauty and horror of the night can only be felt if you have seen the weeping of the Nightingale...