She walked through that spiralling elegant wasteland. Losing her faith, losing her fear. She lost her everything that day. She held out the wilted flower which rested in her hand, her last memory, and let it go. It drifted away into eternal darkness-another lost soul. She turned to her right and greeted a man with a skeleton face. His long twig-like fingers peeled away her face, and she looked up to the bruised skies and prayed. The stars fell like silver rain, filling her wounds with glitter. She jumped into the fire, an everlasting void, and dreamed of a place where flowers never die and hearts never break. God was her saviour. And God was a failure.