Whimsical Goth - Tumblr Posts

The faint light existed in an eternal void. Each echo heard and every shadow drawn was a reflection from none other than itself. Sometimes it grew, burned, and ached for release. Yet, the belief that it never would be had reignited at every dawn when the soul fell dim again. It prayed to be like the feather falling without breeze, and to be the silent night without crickets, only stars. It prayed there be no restraints, no thoughts, nor the beliefs that gave this prison power. Tonight, the soul glows particularly warm. She finds relief in a much needed exhalation. A breath of hope and consequently, stars. So with every night, which she created, brought dreams this time, too.