She was a beautiful

She placed her hand on her chest and thought, 'So this is what the poets write about, What happens when you combine your passion, strength and value? This is the process of creating true art. She was a mimicry of a facade fashioned from the half-truths of her life. She was a beautiful abomination, patched together from the most pristine and terrible parts she could find. She was a black crystal of many cuts and facets whose dark glow suffocated and entranced those it washed over.

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