The prattle is no more. 

They sashay their seperate ways. 

The precious ones drifted.

Only warmth she had was her long golden hair.

Her fingers numb, swollen.

Her lips, unpigmented.

She's left with her shadow and her shadow only.

No  sight of living. 

No sight of immortality.

Light's gone. 

Even her own shadow leaves when she's in darkness.

She moved off into the darkness.

An enlightened state.