She had lost so much. Her friends betrayed her. Her family died to the traitors. Her land disavowed her. All she had left was a small dragon she had raised from its egg. It had never forsaken her, even as all others did. It had protected her in the wild as she fled from hunters. It was by her side when she joined her nation in its last stand. It was a battle to behold. Indeed, one might say neither side won, as both armies lay dead in the dust. Miraculously, she had come out unscathed . . . physically, that is; and it was all thanks to that little dragon. Every attacker that approached, every dart that flew near, every sword and spear that swung at her was averted by that little dragon. It was a flash of light, always moving, always guarding. When, at last, the dust settled, when the clash of steel on steel quieted, when the wounded ceased their groans and gave in to their wounds, the girl and the dragon stood alone. The dragon, also unscathed due to its speed and agility, finally fell from the sky, succumbing to exhaustion. The girl caught it in her arms, she cradled its dying form. She spoke to it, one last time. “No,” she choked. “Don’t leave me! Don’t go with everyone else! Please stay!” It gazed up at her through dimming eyes. Its tail rose once more, brushing against her cheek one last time. Then all was still. The life finally left that faithful dragon. The girl dropped to her knees. She stared at the lifeless body, then the carnage around her, then the sky, then the dragon once more. Tears, not the first since she had been betrayed, began to run down her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut; she clenched her teeth. The tears kept coming, no longer a trickle. She flung back her head and screamed her despair and rage to the sky! How could she move on? After all that had been taken from her, what was left? Her family was dead. Her home was gone. Her nation had fallen. Her friends were traitors. Her dragon, who had remained by her side through it all, was finally dead. She was left, alone in a field of the dead.
Of some reason I came to think of a photograph of a mummified girl. A Roman girl. Apperantly she died during a visit to Egypt. The though of grieving parents paying for a proper mummification so they could bring her home are a bit heartwrenching.
Bonjour. Epic Music VN, OH que c'est magnifique très belle musique avec un excellent accompagnement bravo félicitations bonne continuation !! 👍👍💙🌹💯💯😄👋💖👍👍👍 merci 👍
She had lost so much. Her friends betrayed her. Her family died to the traitors. Her land disavowed her. All she had left was a small dragon she had raised from its egg. It had never forsaken her, even as all others did. It had protected her in the wild as she fled from hunters. It was by her side when she joined her nation in its last stand. It was a battle to behold. Indeed, one might say neither side won, as both armies lay dead in the dust. Miraculously, she had come out unscathed . . . physically, that is; and it was all thanks to that little dragon. Every attacker that approached, every dart that flew near, every sword and spear that swung at her was averted by that little dragon. It was a flash of light, always moving, always guarding. When, at last, the dust settled, when the clash of steel on steel quieted, when the wounded ceased their groans and gave in to their wounds, the girl and the dragon stood alone. The dragon, also unscathed due to its speed and agility, finally fell from the sky, succumbing to exhaustion. The girl caught it in her arms, she cradled its dying form. She spoke to it, one last time.
“No,” she choked. “Don’t leave me! Don’t go with everyone else! Please stay!”
It gazed up at her through dimming eyes. Its tail rose once more, brushing against her cheek one last time. Then all was still. The life finally left that faithful dragon. The girl dropped to her knees. She stared at the lifeless body, then the carnage around her, then the sky, then the dragon once more. Tears, not the first since she had been betrayed, began to run down her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut; she clenched her teeth. The tears kept coming, no longer a trickle. She flung back her head and screamed her despair and rage to the sky! How could she move on? After all that had been taken from her, what was left? Her family was dead. Her home was gone. Her nation had fallen. Her friends were traitors. Her dragon, who had remained by her side through it all, was finally dead. She was left, alone in a field of the dead.
The blend of images and music created an unforgettable experience. I wish everyone will always find joy and happiness in life, the way I felt
Wonderful music to listen to while studying, reading a book or reviewing someone's content.❤
Or just daydreaming 💫
Thanks for wonderful beauties💚
Of some reason I came to think of a photograph of a mummified girl. A Roman girl. Apperantly she died during a visit to Egypt. The though of grieving parents paying for a proper mummification so they could bring her home are a bit heartwrenching.
that was truly epic .
Bravo 👏C'est vraiment de la créativité 🥰
Epic Music VN,👍 merci bcp excellente musique .
Thank you for sharing your amazing content with us!
Fantastic music ! ❤
Bonjour. Epic Music VN, OH que c'est magnifique très belle musique avec un excellent accompagnement bravo félicitations bonne continuation !! 👍👍💙🌹💯💯😄👋💖👍👍👍 merci 👍
Why did you name your title "YOU DROWN IN TEARS WHILE YOUR HEART BURNS" with a picture of a girl crying while holding a dragon?
Maybe it's because the girl's pet dragon died and now she is drowning in her tears while her heart Burns