Prompt #4 Blank
I feel nothing. I am empty; I am lost and yet I feel no urge to search. Search for what? I am only as empty as the cold place beside me underneath the silk sheets at night; only as empty as the chair on which she sat comfortably in the evenings; only as empty as the night sky is when I look for a star to wish upon and beg the gods wordlessly for her to return to me. For I have lost her forever, and there can be no hope for me to hold onto.
Hope. What is hope? I have none. I do not grieve. My loss goes beyond that. I have grieved. I have cried and screamed until my throat bled raw and our servants believed me to be completely mad. But pain does not matter, I no longer feel it. I am empty.
It was suggested that I commission a portrait of her. But how could mere paints on a canvas represent her laugh, her smile, her vibrancy and her very presence? We have grown old together, the adventures of our youth culminating in a lifetime of love and companionship. There can be no more of that though; she was my very soul and now she is gone.
Her face is blank, her body unmoving and devoid of life as she lies in the casket. I no longer feel grief; I cannot. All I can do is bid a final farewell to my empress, my priestess, my very soul. I have lost my love, yet still I cannot cry.