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.