I see that girl with the cherry cola colored hair, and wonder where she is going. Trapped in the mirror with dancing sparkles in her curls. She lights another flaming illumination, and smiles in spite, in spite of the night. She turns and disapears from view, but I am her now, and I see what she sees. Turning to the fallen angel with wet dark eyes; moving up to a face set with emerald jewels He steals earthly breath when he moves, lighting blood fires, filling cheeks with rubies. In Motions smooth like rushing water he catches light and tricks it with a wave of his hand. He brings his hand down, bringing on a forced absence of light, for the glare of emeralds is much too bright, the glare of innocence. She is plunged into a dark void of falling crystals, falling sparkles, deeper and unknown. In the moment crystals shatter, but instead of shards there are shudders. Reaching up through the vision, he wraps his angel arms around her, protecting her from something only he can see. The winding current pulling further, harder. He holds on to the material world, but a light blinds his vision, and as she opens her eyes, pure light engulfs the room. The sure strong grip fades to chilling rendition, for he was the one that stayed to save her, but stayed in her arms too long.