A single note, and the misunderstanding of love. A child, teen more like, subjected to the iron fists of discipline. With wide eyes, she tries to discover herself, discover the emotions buried deep within her -- yet once again, forced down and stifled, wrung around the rosy-d nape and fragile arms. Eyes turned dark, quite unnatural. It wasn't her fault for not understanding. It wasn't her fault she wanted to know what love was.
A love more true than the blazing sun on high. A real appreciation for that thing that stirs the heart. And yet, it starts. The trumpets blaring loudly, and the siren's call for danger. Sable orbs subjected to a day of needed absence, and again we find ourselves amiss. She is, herself disgraced. She is a disgrace for searching for love when she obviously should not yet have shown she could understand.