Crown of Bones

Flames are licking her body, just tasting her and leaving lovely patterns behind.
Angry red swirls and curves; telling the stories of letters never sent, of long lost lovers and passions refusing to be forgotten.
Sores; the only witnesses of the fear of war. Of the sound of the raging canons, the clash of swords. Of the lives lost over foolish battles no one even believed on.
Dark splutters; for the nights near bonfires. Dancing around the flames to the beat of the night life, darkness consuming you. Celebrating the rituals of already forgotten religions, and dead gods.
Blisters, narrating legends of knights in shining armor, looking for glory and treasure, but finding only the flames of death.
Burns; recalling all those homes turned ablaze in the dead of night, and the people who in there perished.
The fire is spreading so fast, it is now the only thing to be distinguished, an ocean of reds and oranges, a sea of light, engulfing her in anguish. She is drowning in the flames, flames that now order her to rest.
Lynn has always been hunted by the inferno within her.