The Woman in the frame

The Woman in the frame

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing10m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, May 22, 2022
Each day people passed. Each one with different eyes, each one with different smiles. People passed and looked. They searched for a meaning in the painting that would perhaps help their own story. People searched and appreciated the beauty in her. But they never found it. In the most beautiful part of a museum, she resided. With her golden silk, and naked body she danced an infinit melody. Must could say that she was as free as the wind that blew her golden hair. Must would say that she was the representation of beauty itself on a frame. But they never truly saw the depth of her own eyes, smile or story. Each day people would pass but never truly see. Until her.
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She is not Perfect. And she is not Pure. She is Chaos. And she is Order. She is a Witch. And she is a Goddess. She is cruel. And she is merciful. She is anything you desire her to be. And everything you fear and run from. She can be your Saviour. And she can be your Death. She is a pawn for the gods. And she is insane. * The gods determined her death five years ago, but she survived, and she plans on living long enough to enjoy the life that was nearly taken from her, breaking the laws that keep women from domineering. Leonidas is peace and the only thing that keeps her sane. He is her beginning, and he shall be her end. But she knew that it was all worth it, for his sake.

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