Her Before

Courtesy: Pixabay
Before the night she died,
she sat up late
wondering at her hope for the future.
The night before.
Before she was thrust onto the table
and her future bled out.

Before her breath was stolen,
she'd huddled beneath a broken wall
counting stars through the smoke.
The last night.
Her last night breathing,
before death fell from her sky.

©March 2022
Christina Anne Hawthorne

About Christina Anne Hawthorne

Alive and well in the Rocky Mountains. I'm a fantasy writer who also dabbles in poetry, short stories, and map making. My Ontyre tales are an alternative fantasy experience, the stories rich in mystery, adventure, and romance. Alternative fantasy? Not quite steampunk. Not quite gothic. In truth, the real magic is in those who discover what's within.
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