She’s had her school bag but her future is belated

I felt shocked and disorganized.

“Murdered by her Preceptor”

It sounded like a reckoning in my ear

North, south, west, east, there and here.

I couldn’t shut my eyes

to this head-scratching

 

I sat quietly, musing on my muse

Reference my mood of instabilities.

It seems my head was below my legs

As shadow lurks around the eggs.

This is the intersection between battle and harmony

 

This is the peak point of hell in our entity

Why does their last word go with a sword?

If I have known the danger behind a smile,

I would have cried more before I smiled.

Nothing befits a life of selfishness,

Not even good health and happiness.