You were a spellbound angel. Bound by the miserable fate of immortality. Cursed back onto earth and enduring the pain of a million missing lovers and any sort of happiness stripped right from you.

Why? Well, don’t you remember? You made a crude joke to the goddess of death herself. Azrael was quick to slip the collar of misery onto you like a dog gone missing.

Your feet dragged as you approached her throne, skulls adorned her slim ghostly pale hands as she lounged lazily. Her hair black like the night as it pooled to the ground. She wore a veil, black of course and a layered lace dress that had ravens feathers and the hair of the ones she’s put to rest.

You found your time to put this eternity to rest. Beg for forgiveness.