He was too, a dancing blade. He was a chakram. Beautifully used and he can dance throughout the battles and wars of the intricacy of life. He was swaying, like the blade spinning, lashing and ripping through the very fragments of the deep void inside my heart. He was a blade. Yes, he destroyed my darkness, but he too, probably the definition of my aching chest. A piercing, slashing blade of guiding path. A well-synthesized blade dancer.
[R&I]
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Emotion Speaks: Illusions and Aches
RandomA collection of short literary works about emotions springing to life through words of a broken-hearted writer, one-sidedly loving a single man through years of admiration. Mixed works of real and imaginative words, scenarios will always give you t...
