Long locks of auburn hair, eyes that blazed like golden flames, and a smile laced with deadly poison.
Like a jar filled with molten lava, she was ready to set things on fire with a single touch- anything that does the mistake of crossing her path to stop her from taking control of her ship.
She was done hiding behind the iron gates of her fears, done quivering above the dancing waves. She was done being the one who always needed saving.
And so, through the looking glass, she smirked.
..............
"I have learned that strength is measured by how many times you can accept that you're going to fall..."
ESTÁ A LER
The Writer and Her Daydreams
PoesiaA prose and poetry collection where dreams transform into something real.
