ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
In a vicinity surrounded by sinners, a saint once neglected lonesome. Dark orbs, raven tresses, the fearful wits thrived through her psyche since. Relinquished, she loomed solely on her own within the grayscale whilst others maintained in the colour wheel. She was naive, poles apart from Yves. She was daunted to fare beyond her sanctuary and ease. She was daunted to louse things up and solely cause a wreckage. Phlegmatic like a perished corpse. Dubious like a wolf, she didn’t recognise someone to bank on. A dispute caused her agony, memorials of her friends leaving her in the lurch from Eden haunt her. “They say time heals”, no truer lies have ever been spoken. Duende of the blasphemous murmur, she fell down to the terrene. It was a big gaffe, shame fraternised each and every step she hauled. Noshing the forbidden blood plum did shed blood, she was haemorrhaging mortally. Her erstwhile vein was crumbling, the world was caliginous and sombre. She ought to veer a blind eye to her yore, forging a better, a tougher, and pshaw, a madder Olivia Hye. ⊹
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ