A wasted, dark beauty laced with a hint of decay... but with the promise of rest and renewal, thereafter new life; a complete transformation. Its akin to seeing an entire forest burned, then coming a year later, witnessing the bright green saplings shooting up amongst the scars, or gearing the first birds to sing in the spring after a harsh winter.
SHE is like every whisper you've ever heard but could not directly clarify, left questioning if what you heard was indeed what was said. She is the rub of an eraser on a sketch pad, the swish of a brush upon a canvas. She is the pause of the shutter behind every camera lens. She is the deep breath after every moment of suspense. She is the shift of wind beneath the wings of a raven. She is the first and last note of music you hear in every song. She is the crack in the loudest clap of thunder, she is the pelt of every drop of rain.
You see her everywhere, yet she was never really there.