I was going to reblog this one tomorrow, but my post for today didn’t turn out right, so here it is. A dark and beautiful story by Alexander.

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Memoirs of Alexander

The air that fell upon her face was warm, misty, stimulating her pores to collect sweat. She was in the park that night because It was the only place she could focus. The moon was full, It occupied a vantage point in the skies, a white core, which she thought looked like a pearl encircled by a red hue; alluring she thought. She would ponder over the moon another night; but tonight, she yearned for release and she was about to scribble until was satisfied.She’d been too preoccupied and her head was buzzing with thoughts… emotions that she couldn’t seem to rid herself of:

This is a tale my father told me; 

one that I have been dying to tell.

There’s a dark place in the sanctum;

The gates are locked; never to be opened.

Rumour has it, only a maiden of pure heart

is allowed passage.

One with a…

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