Her life was an abyss of cold memories
And empty promises,
That leaked from the corners of her eyes
Into the vast beyond of the future,
Where suns ended
And supernovas began.
Her lungs were clouded
With the burning ash of
A fiery self-hatred.
Lost galaxies of exploding gases
Pooled in her veins.
Her skin itched with the
Regret of a one-thousand-man army.
Her mind was a void,
Empty of hope
And layered with her struggles.
And she was a storm.
She was a storm that
Lingered in the Field of Asphodel.
She was a storm that leveled worlds
And ended the universe.
She was a storm.
And nobody tried to stop her.