If you listen, really listen, you will hear it. The sound that shakes even the hardest of hearts to the very core. Can you not hear it? The whispered words that bring a tear to the eye of even the strongest warrior. The eerie melody that drifts on the wind, crawls through the smallest of cracks; dances in the darkness. The World weeps, the World created with the best of intentions wails and withers before our very eyes. May your heart be heavy, hearing that sound; the sound of failure. There is no hope for the World. The World is not dead, not yet. But if you listen closely, hear as it sings one final lament. It is a World that is simply waiting to die.
The moon waited alone in the sky, a beacon of dull, grey light wandering between the thinning clouds. The moon did not glow, it floated moon-like, but the sparkle, the luminescent light that gives the moon a magical quality, was lacking. The moon drifted across the sky like a perfect pebble, without purpose or illumination. No one glanced at the moon anymore, there was no point. The celestial being that once lit up the sky had long ago deserted the world.
The sun began its peaceful ascent into the sky, yawning into the world like spring flowers after a long, harsh winter. It rose carefully. The first golden rays teasing the horizon, a warm glow filling the world with a smile that could shatter the coldest of hearts. These rays were warriors, strong and fierce, shining out in the darkness; braving the emptiness of the dawning sky. Warriors ready to meet their deaths in order to protect their radiant queen. They waited; holding their breath in the silence, wondering what it felt like to die, to enter the realm of eternal night. But, like every morning that had gone before, nothing happened. A sigh of relief washed across the land. Another day was to bless the World, another day of light and hope to keep the shadows at bay; hold off the stalking Darkness that threatened to consume the beauty of it all. Relief encouraged the Queen’s army to follow. The sunrise was more glorious than any parade. The sun burst into the sky like a majestic monarch entering the throne room ready for coronation. But very few witnessed this magical moment.
With every passing year, the people of the World became more and more obsessed with their own existence. They forgot about the things that at one time had been so important to their lives. There had been a time when every being had worshipped the sun and thanked her for her glorious light. But the World had changed. Hatred consumed the hearts of even the kindest of people. The sun felt it. She knew a change had befallen the World. The end was nearing. The enchanting glow that once burned fiercely, within her golden body, was beginning to fade. Like a flickering candle, she knew the morning would come when her flame would falter and she would fail to rise. Without her, the World would die. Every day she prayed that a miracle would befall the World, that someone would have the courage to stand up to the Darkness. The sun whispered a prayer, not knowing it would be for the final time.