With the sunset I must be
Hull down on the trail of rapture
In the wonder of the sea
Hull down on the trail of rapture
In the wonder of the sea
The Slytherin, dressed in warm clothes in the breezy afternoon weather, sat by the grass on the field, waiting for particularly no one, expecting nothing but herself and her time to read. For once, her eyes looked through sensible things, poetry, writings. She somewhat missed them, a truth she wanted to keep out of her.
She held the small aged book with her pale hands, rummaging through the pages and scanning some lines she found lovely. Her mind didn't even care that what she was facing was something she found in the attic in what she called home. And this children's book of poems became a treasure her heart owned when she was little. When she was innocent and careless. When her ears can stand the voices of her parents reading to her.
But now, they were just faded echoes, flying away through the mountains, swimming away like the sea, and being buried like the abandoned, unloved gloomy graves.
Still, her weak soul actually thought about them even more desperately.
Wed May 21, 2014 2:20 am by Guest
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