The Side of a Death's Prey
On the other side of a story, we won't be seeing a girl who kept on crying at nighttime, wondering how long she can grip her mother's arm. Hence, an old lady who was simply astonishing on the eyes of many. Loved for centuries and finally leaving everyone now even if it's not her choice. She was also broke. She was also savouring the remaining minutes of being alive, thinking of the aftermath. To reminisce is to know how stupid it is to inducely end a life.
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unfold aphorism
Poetryi can't restrain myself eyeing without telling what is what. I'll spill the teas here.
