"They talk of broken hearts, but what about a broken soul?
A heart can mend if it is given time. It is tangible unlike a soul.
Though as delicate as it's walls may seem, the heart is strong
enough to withstand hurt, loss, and sorrow.
But a soul. How do you mend a soul? One cannot see or touch
a soul. For a soul is the shadow behind one's eyes. It is the phantom
ache that pricks and cuts one like shards of glass. It is the army of
ghosts inside one's head. And when a broken soul unstitches itself
from one's body it wanders the earth, in search of darkness. Again,
once the soul has departed a body, it can no longer speak or cry out
or scream. However, it can become the wind. A terrifying wind that
howls a melody that one can feel in the very marrow of their bones.
A melody so woeful and tragic that even the wolves underneath same
stars and the same moon begin to cry."