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The Scarlet Letter

Tuesday, 27 October 2015





She was a house of cards, built upon the foundation of naiveté, walls of trust, and material of compassion and candor. Nevertheless, so fragile they all were… razed to ground like an avalanche, with a delicate touch of treachery. It was then upon the wind called society to blow away the scattered cards to the gutters.

She was a work of art, now faded into oblivion. Wandering but not lost, she scavenged for the remains, picking them up piece by piece. From the ashes, she rose, shaping a skyscraper no one could reach. But a few bricks have gone astray, leaving the high-rise frozen, and her heart, stone cold.

She was The Snow Queen, directed the fate this instant. Reaching the farthest of skies, depths of the oceans and beyond horizons. She created the rules; she bent them.. The wind called society cussed her, called her a rebel, cold-hearted, and a promiscuous bitch. She was dragged down the icy throne, to go on her own

She is the Scarlet letter, and nothing mattered. For the wind doesn’t know her story, despite surrounding her all the time. So she walked with poise, her head held high, flaunting the red badge of infamy.




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