Story By Easha
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Easha

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Stockholm Syndrome
Updated at Nov 10, 2017, 09:12
Sneering at the flicker of fear in my eyes, You made your way to my side, You kissed me, your lips stained with lies. Your blade you raised, Glinting in the moonlight’s daze, Slowly swooping down to me, The air now a crumbling maze. A mysterious, quiet, cool danger rained down, But he made a sound, And into darkness you had grown.
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