Nov 4, 2025
« Anger makes you impulsive. Sorrow causes you to waver. »
She knew it all too well. So despite a burning soul, She kept her heart cold as ice. Yet, as she sat there under the crescent moon, On that throne made of corpses, Rotting flesh clinging to her body, With so many hopes and dreams shattered under her heels, She wondered, even for a fleeting moment, What had happened to the little girl, Who wanted to change the world.