In the grip of despair, amidst the somber preparations for her funeral, the mocking reflection in the mirror revealed a familiar face, that of Antonio. Though I served ties with him, his unwavering loyalty compelled him to offer me solace, despite knowing my disdain for his presence. Steeling myself against the torrent of emotions, I vowed that he would pay dearly for his betrayal, for the treachery that ruptured the profound trust we once shared. Yet, on that fateful day, as my hardened guise enshrouded my heart, a flicker of compassion awakened within. Summoning him forth, an act so trival yet laden with symbolism.
Once the knot was secured, the cold-hearted man I was, flung my arms around him, bridging the chasm that once served us. As our bodies pressed together, both of us etching the boundries of our existence, I said, in the immortal words of the great Martin Luther King Jr, my voice a tremor of shattered resolve, "dobblamo vivere insleme come fratelli o perire insieme come sclocchi." In those words, a declaration resounded, reverberating through the very fibers of our beings.
In this barren cold world, as I sat next to the ethereal grace of Dilara, encased in a black coffin adorned with diamonds that paled in comparison to her brilliance, an unbearable pain gripped my heart. I was compelled to surrender to the indomitable force of my nature, her elegant desires have now became my pilgrimage to fulfill, regardless of the ethereal realms she may now reside in. Paris, oh the cherished city where dreams thrived harmonized with her spirit. How I longed for the illusory respite that only her awakening could bring!
How I yearned to pierce through the veil of her ethereal slumber and coax her with whispered promises. How I yearned to witness her delicate visage, untouched by the cruel hand of destiny, peacefully resting amidst the ivory silk of her final repose. Yet her battle-scarred countenance, ravaged by a malevolent force, echoed the horrifying truth that would eternally haunt my shattered soul. Like a slumbering angel imprisoned in an implacable dream, she lays there, deceivingly serene, as if awaited a gentle touch to awaken from this morbid slumber. Alas, such a touch would forever elude my desperate grasp, forever plunged in the cruelty of an irreparable fate.
Where once her laughter echoed through the chambers of my heart, filling my existence with rapturous delight, now remained an unfathomable emptiness, a void carved by the hands of destiny. The anguish coursing through my veins surpassed the mere longing of her presence, for it was the agony of an irretrievable loss, of shattered oaths and forsaken dreams. As the world continued its callous indifference, my heart bled an ocean of tears. Her absence reverberated in every corner of my consciousness, a perpetual symphony of sorrow that could never be silenced. Oh my Lara, trapped eternally within the confines of this sarcophagus, I beseeched the heavens to grant me a glimpse of her ethereal beauty just once more.
YOU ARE READING
Ángel Oscuro's Redemption
Short StoryA gripping tale of Matteo Acer, a dangerous mafia with a callous heart, who moves to Turkey and becomes infatuated with a woman named Dilara Cosima and kidnaps her, intending to shape her into his ideal partner. However, as their relationship evolv...
