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A million stories were written across her skin in the language of old scars. A road map to a past full of pain and blood and misery; the tale of a life abruptly interrupted.
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A million stories were written across her skin in the language of old scars. A road map to a past full of pain and blood and misery; the tale of a life abruptly interrupted. Of challenges met and conquered or failed, of cherished victories and disheartening defeats. Each this white line a whispered legacy not meant for mortal ears.
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A million stories were written across her skin in the language of old scars. A road map to a past full of pain and blood and misery; the tale of a life abruptly interrupted. Of challenges met and conquered. Of terrible defeats. Of battles won and lost in a breath. Each thin white line a whispered legacy.
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Countless stories were written across her skin in the language of old scars. A road map to a past full of pain and blood and misery; the tale of a life abruptly interrupted. Of challenges met and conquered. Of terrible defeats. Of battles won and lost in a breath. Each thin white line a whispered legacy.
What you start with is rarely what you end up with.
