The morning light passed through the apertures of the ill-lit passageway, and a miscellany of cerulean and indigo songbirds flew alongside the dense palace windows. They sang a song of an undecided fate with either hope or despair in store. The pearls lay heavy on my chest as the hem of my pale off white, ivory gown dance across the floors. The following breath I begin to intake is more uneven than the last, my leg heavy from its wound, and yet I still run. I come to the sudden realization that perhaps rather than denying destiny it would become me to accept it. I've been running for so long the feeling of standing still is foreign to me. When everything that was mine has been lost, why do I pursue to retrieve them once more? Even after I've lost everything dear to me, I preserve in pursuit of happiness. By chasing such I've only deepened my despair. I hear the soldiers approaching, they've gotten through him. By running from an undetermined fate, I've only stood still in life. My body becomes unmoving and numb, painfully so. Glass dispersed from the broken window, across these blood-splattered floors. The tight bun I had this morning is now let loose draping over my shoulders and nape. The sun is shining ever so brilliantly and the flock of songbirds has now flown away. I will not tolerate this foul and unpleasant death, I would not be able to rest peacefully. So allow me to fly like a songbird with wings, and when I descend from this heavenly grace allow me to alight onto a flower bed of sunflowers. While I fall allow me to go peacefully.