The imprialist.. an unknown god.. The angel shattering every life form.
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She approaches the lady with red eyes..
" why are you picking up white flowers.. " The Imprialist asked.
" For an important person I love.. " The Floweriac said.
" hmph... how beautiful are the flowers.. " The Imprialist said.
The Floweriac responded with a nod.
• / • / • / • /
The Imprialist now sits on a swing... playing the harp.
It was one sweet lyric.
The Fantasy she was yearning for came true.. a home she would call.
She never budged a fight for it.
Another lady sits beside her.
" hm... have you ever played another song? im yearning to hear it. " It was Iris.
" Maybe... would you like me to play it? " She asked.
" Sure. " Iris said.
END.
( Yeah- I changed my mind! )
YOU ARE READING
✧ ― ৲ 𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗖 𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗜𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗠 • 𝐕𝟒 | 圣灵 ― •
Fantasy❝ 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑. ✧ ✧ A story continues up ahead, many adventure awaits you. ❞ 〔 Roleplayers : @uniapedia 〕
