When Verity walked the earth she carried close a secret smile. She harbored thoughts of skin and bones and a voice not hers; sweet lips curved in an impish grin and the gentle turn of a hip. But the music fell on a deaf heart that already bled in a deep red crush of remorseful sorrow and loss. And she turned away to a new day yet to dawn, crying. She was a brave girl.

Cynder Lynn bled red, bold as day,
Without a care or much to say.
And smiling widely she would remark,
“I really just hate people, that’s the lark.”