| Anastasia |The world makes out a girl to be nothing but a delicate flower in a meadow of harsh grass. They make us out as the definition of innocence. However, they're mistaken; females aren't the captivating hue of a rose, but the thorns that give it a much more valuable story. Women may not seem like it, but inside each one of us is a warrior. A survivor.
Our souls play as hypocrites to shield us from the dangers of this horrendous misery. If everyone was created for a certain reason; then proving a misunderstood point shall be mine.
Seeing one's perspective on divergent matters was always something I forever enjoyed taking a part in. However, I never stayed to listen. It was a passion of mine, yes. But the people of the world were calling out for me.
Time doesn't wait. Not for me, not for you, not for anyone; till this day do I remain as one of times greatest victims. It's most valued prey.
Despite the tight and very cramped up schedule my life is bound to go by, a vintage black marker and a never ending train of thoughts were always squeezed through the tight walls of my day. My feet neared the only source of joy I have ever come to know, the shadowed corners made my face light up, the tattered brick walls made me feel welcomed, however, what seemed to make both my heart and mind smile are the words jotted down on what I consider to be empty pages.
Words in cursive filled my canvas to the brink. Nothing can beat the view right in front of me, well that's the way I see it after all. These meaningful elements of speech each represent the various commodities I've lost within the space of 21 years. My mother introduced me to the three walls I call home, and everyday since then I would end up at the unvaried time,and place occupying my being with the gentle movements of my hand.
My home was later on called "Hurricane", it was used to represent both me and the space I have yet to show the world.
Although my admiration and love for this emblem digs down very deeply, I have grown tired of my ominous lifestyle. I fear to grow old and have no stories to tell, for adventure is what I seek. But routine, is what I live by.
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Ignited [z.m]
Fanfic"And what name do you give this horrible creation of yours?" "It's called Ignited."