Mar 22, 2004 18:54
Start: 6:55
End: 6:59
The Singer
One in the middle of thousands, voice dancing on the glittering moonbeams, pale and fragile against the whirl of dancers that circled her. Her eyes fluttered closed as her voice grew stronger, the soft words becoming glittering globes in the air, resting amongst her snowy hair, and shining against her pale skin. She sang for peace, for love, and for the child that grew inside.
Ugh. Doesn't do it any justice.