Eyes looking at the camera, dead and lifeless like the soul that hides behind them, bleeding tears of sorrow that engulfs her fragile soul. The world around her seems to wither, mirroring the heartbreak within. Each tear that falls is a piece of her shattered spirit, a mosaic of pain painted across her face. The weight of her existence bears down, an unrelenting burden of anguish that numbs even the faintest thread of hope. Memories torment her, a never ending loop of regret and heartache that erodes whatever strength she clings to. The camera captures a moment frozen in perpetual sorrow, a portrait of a soul trapped in an unending trap of darkness.
The heavy air around her is heavy with the stink of monotony, a putrid reminder of the rot that has seeped into every crevice of her being. Her tears are not just tears—they are the essence of her torment, a bitter concoction of hopelessness and misery. Each drop that falls sizzles on her skin, like acid rain from a unforgiving sky. There is no rest in her gaze, only a monster that hungers for the last remnants of her sanity. Memories claw at her mind, like relentless demons, tearing apart whatever shreds of peace she once held. The camera captures her in a moment of pure agony, a snapshot of a life devoured by the ever surrounding void, where even the concept of escape is an illusion too cruel to fathom.
Blakeney-Rose Berry 