A Withered Flower
- LECTURES 4
- Votes 1
- Chapitres 1
The flower, a fleeting beauty. With every second in this world they wither and fall or maybe they were plucked too early in their youth. After all no one wants a withered flower....
If only life were as simple as being a flower I thought. Maybe then this boring life would have meaning. Only to stroll the endless halls of this damned academy day after day, wishing that something would change. But no, nothing ever does, we eat, go to class, sleep, and repeat again and again until you wish it was over, and then it finally is.
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