"Her."
Setting: 1800s, London
Her eyes stroked my heart as I laid eyes on her. Oh, what a heinous crime for her to commit. Thievery is an unforgivable sin as she has taken away my heart.
Her soft hands are as silky and dewy as white leather, and her breath must cost a fortune. Her silver-braided hair was divine and gleaming effortlessly wherever she stood, and her eyes were calm and cold but as hazel as the setting sun.
I did not care how many gold gemstones, and jewelry I must give, or how many white horses I must offer; if she is in my arms, everything will feel complete.
She is not the only one who has committed a catastrophic sin; I have stolen a divine angel from eternal bliss, and as light gleamed before my eyes, I did not regret going to burn in hell and turn into flames just to get one last look at her divine beauty. I burn in the flames of the depths but knowing that I have seen heaven glowing right before my eyes without even being there.
Oh, how I adore her beauty, but it would not last forever. I must keep it safe, beginning with her head. I'd slashed her head, dark red blood dripping from the table; at last, her beauty would be kept safe with me for all eternity known to mankind.
By Lili.ana
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YOU ARE READING
Her.
PoetrySorry, English is not my first language Falling in love and spending time with your one and only sounds beautiful, doesn't it? But are there heinous horrors in this kind of love? Obsession is a dangerous toy that never could be a fool for.
