• A little child no older than eight stood before the marble stone that marked his father’s grave. The sight holds and unearthly beauty a sad beauty. Pure Ivory skin covered the little body dressed in soft white clothes that danced in the soft morning breeze and delicate hands holding a pure red rose to his small shaking body. Waist long sliver blond hair with light strawberry blond lines moves with every shiver. Irises of the purest crystal blue shattered like broken mirrors and silvery mirror like pupils reflecting both the owners own pain and innocence as well as the on lookers’ souls. Wings of the darkest ebony both reflect and retain the light around them showing to all the sadness, pain, and purity that come from the little one. Tears that seem to be made of the purest silver fall from the doll like face in a silent pattern dripping onto velvet rose petals. Soft light pink lips stayed opened as he sang a low lullaby in a heart wrenching and soul crushingly sad musical voice. This is a sight neither of a child nor an angel it’s a sight of a pure, lost, and forgotten soul.