It was no more than a mere catastrophe that ached in my heart. Some says, going away to flutter with your deepest heart is a decision to take. But oh well—who knows of saying that mercy would skeptic our mind into a stranger on a long road tonight.
I clenched my fist hardly, I didn’t think it would hurt more than before, but what they said about some flyers—it might be true.
Some things can conjugate into thin air, it says well, I broke every rules, more than they know. Prejudice of my conjugation is a pain over the moon, but for some mountains for instance, that plays well.
In the end,
I pry well for the moon and mountain.