She Stands Alone

And she stands tall on the beach
the sun tinting her sunscreen-covered skin,
her hair swaying with the rhythm of the waves,
her feet soaking into the sand.

And she stands in front of a pile of crisp, autumn-colored leaves.
The leaves that were forgotten
and thrown away by the tree of life
left to age to a crisp. Then crunch.
Only to fly away with the wind.

And she stands in the snow,
like a crystal princess waist-high
with the wind blowing away her identity.

And she stands on the bridge over the stream,
cherry blossoms tinting the air with life and existence.
But her identity had already left her.

All she sees is black.
And still, she stands.

And still, she stands alone.

Alone, in fear.