Crimson Elegy

(50 WORDS): The death of a muse.

         Grace’s alabaster gown merges amongst tufts of milky Moonbeams. Grief-wrought melodies flow from her lips to quench her thirst. She draws a rose’s stem over her wrist, the invisible violin drawing tears from her porcelain skin to form pools of crimson in praying leaves. Her magnum opus carries her beyond.