That thought has brought about something artistic in me, but not a happy, cuddly artistic, more like the deepest, darkest, coldest part of my emotions that is me, and no one else. Something I buried far away. And now a bit of it is shining through the soft soil with its piercing black light.

This picture was actually a thought I had for awhile lately, and it was bugging me enough that I just had to draw it. This was before Trent had gotten his Scythe of Vanity, and thus, was still mortal, and able to die.

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After several long hours of trying to mortally injure himself, Trent had finally given up, realizing that he would never be able to relieve himself of his life. With a sigh he stopped, and looked up to the dark robed, winged being infront of him. Her long grey hair flowed down to the middle of her back, and gentle swept across her face. Her black night gown hanging down to her ankles, nearly covering her feet. He examined her pale face, trying to hold back tears of sorrow. "Wh....Why won't you let me die?", he asked, feeling a single hot tear rolling down his cheek. He had struggled for so long to end his life, but in the end, she had stopped every action, held back every act of pain, or injury that would befall him.

The girl looked at him, her dull blue eyes shimmering slightly as water welled up hearing his words, so sad, but so cold to her as well. "Because I love you...." she said, feeling herself also starting to cry at the thought of him trying to end his life.

They stood there in silence for what felt like hours, neither one speaking a word. After some time, Trent looked up to look at his engel (angel), but she was gone, vanished into thin air. The only thing that remained where she stood were small tears she left on the ground. Tears of sadness, and of love.

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