From Within

There is a lone figure standing atop a hill gazing all around. The harsh wind is unforgiving as it tears at her frail silhoutte. Her face is worn and heavy, her breathing labored, as though she were struggling in a sea of insecurity. Her eyes sing of unknown sorrows buried deep in her soul, melodies of anguish, of a long forgotten hope. She lost this battle long before it ever began, she no longer has the will to fight as she is enclosed in Failure's suffocating hands. Tears stain her face as burning memories continually haunt her vision, voices churn in her head, reaping seeds sown by a deep rooted deception. Pulsating sounds, voices that echo inside her head, break her down as they steal her breath... There, a lone figure stands atop a hill, weeping...