5.31.2013

William Shakespeare - "Doubt thou the stars are fire;Doubt that the sun doth move;Doubt truth to be a liar;But never doubt I love."

The last time I met that shattered girl, she told herself to open her heart for the first good guy who walks in.
 "Dear, you're miserable", I told her.
And so her wish was granted. 
An angel was sent for her,way too different from that demon who tore her. 
So. She took the chance. Took a flight, left the empire of the cruelest evil ever. With all her might, carrying her broken self. 
The angel was very much everyone's favorite. Typical, kind-hearted man. She, as she usually is, appeared aloof, thanking him from the heart.
"Outside world is so youthful, light and simple", she said.
She enjoyed every process, every little progress.
As she was handing in her heart, amidst all the vague feelings she had.....the angel vanished in vanity.
She fell to the ground; wondered why it was painless.
Was it a sign?
And so the demon walked by, gave her his hand once again. She was hurt in succorance.

Living under the shadow, awaiting for the next moment he let her down.
All the affection she is feeling is such euphoria, keeping her attached..and destroyed.



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