Her eyes radiated light. Like the sun, like the moon, and like all the stars in the galaxy. Yet, she, herself, was hollow. She was empty to the core and had nothing to offer, for she had given up everything she had, to satisfy others. Not once had she thought of herself. The light that gleamed out her eyes was, again, purely for others. It was all she had left. In a dying world, it was all she could do to make her surroundings beautiful. It was all she lived for. There was, however, the smallest part of her that wished that the others would help. She did not want to be hollow. There was a small part of her that wanted to feel like how she made the others feel.