And red was like a ball of fire thrown right inside her eyes. It was burning so bright that everyone who looked into it became seemingly devoured by hell. She was labeled monstrous and despicable; her issues were like wildfire that slid dangerously onto the neighborhood. She wasn't made to make friends but to take down relationships hastily, without minding how it would ruin a life built and tended for as long as history has taken note of.
She was a mixture of pain and danger causing her to be more of a beast than a victim. Her legs, weary and weak, took off her strength to aim and reach high. But when my eyes witnessed how wild she ran, she seemed so carefree and brawny. It makes me wonder where she got those pair of legs that made her endlessly unwearied of what she has become.
I watched how she punched, and every punch she throws gets one man down kissing the land where she stands. They tagged her as the queen of ganged-up gangsters within the city ruins. Every blood coming from her enemies results in a glow on her face resurfacing. It is as if it has been the greatest of all the battles she had taken and won.
And her face, oh, it is something that would haunt your holy grail for eternity. It will make you scream in fear, yet one that will make you question how...
Howdid I create this monster?
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The Brain is Never at Rest
PoetryHi. This is a collection of the pieces I wrote for the past years. If some of these sounded or looked familiar, it's because I've posted them in another account I used to go by. Thank you for taking the time to read my work! I hope you'll have a fu...