Falling from the heavens, cast aside by the chosen 'elect', even the gods weep, but not on this night. Alone he falls, his long, unnaturally, almost cliché, black hair, trailing, waving in the air almost to wave goodbye to the crowd above him, screaming at him, with such intensity and passion in their confusingly sad eyes.
Alone he falls, backwards, his brown eyes staring up at the clouds, glimmering with a single tear, swelling, coming up, only seen if one looks into his eyes to see their intensity, the emotion, they seem to have a depth into the soul, and yet beyond, almost as if in his eyes you could see yourself, the universe, and the truest secrets of our own hearts.
Alone he falls, old ratty smelly shoes, worn baggy black pants, but no shirt. His torso exposed, as if to reveal who he really is, nothing to cover him up, nothing to hide who he is underneath, and nothing to protect him from anything that wish him harm.
His body is muscular, toned, his skin is unscarred but laid out upon it is a story in ink. Upon his right breast, a small, hollow heart, lines and streaks running through it almost as if to engulf it, almost as if it were being infected by the darkness.
On his side, the earth, his home, a representation of those who live there, a symbol of the entire human race, and fleeing this home a raven, wings outspread in mid-flight trying to get away, but with shackles chaining the deathly bird to its origin it cannot make its escape.
Just below his palm, covering his wrist and forearm lies an ankh, an ancient symbol of life and eternity, for him it represents his promise to his friends, his attachment and commitment to those he loves and cares about. On his upper arm is a tree, its roots tangled and knotted and carved into each one is a different name, each one done so in such a way as to show love, care, friendship and grief and sorrow. The roots lead up into the tree to symbolize how these people came together, and as the tree continues up onto his shoulder the branches begin to spread out, and separate, they stretch out onto his neck, down his chest and back, winding and twisting every which way. The limbs are bare and dead, and seen floating down below them are leaves, still caught in their descent, and though they are dead there colors are vibrant and beautiful. Alone he falls, the crowd still screaming, yet unheard by him as he grows nearer the ground, because his mind is elsewhere. His mind remains in the past, and so he falls, his arms now spread out ready for the end of his flight, and just before impact, the screams are heard. His heart is struck by their love and affection, the fear of his death, the pain behind every cry, and now he begins to cry. He reaches up to them and….