She wept and silently read, "Gone are my days. I cannot turn away, my fear's a flourishing poison-," the crumpled piece flew out of the woman's grasp. The last of her memoirs slipped between the caging columns of the tumbrel. Flitted, then laid down on the bare ground, her words were crushed by the pounding footsteps of the masses. Until at last, a pair of grimy hands took it.
Rated: T - English - Angst/Poetry - Chapters: 1 - Words: 138 - Published: 7/27/2013