She was trampled upon. She was drowned in the screaming sheets of rain. She was shocked by millions of hissing thunderbolts. She was falling off the highest zeniths with wings burnt to crisps. His volcanic love was setting fire to the oceans she fell in. Everything was going from grays and blues to reds and oranges. His love was going a million miles a minute. It was dancing and sizzling and overflowing. It hit a wall straight on and exploded. The golden love, the pure love of the little girl, was now scorched and deformed. It lay dead in the woman's hands. It would never return to love.

By dev, August 18, 2017.