Until there was nothing left but unnerving perfection. Not a trace of malice. He wished for his sun to shine again. He wished for his hunger to be sated. He wished for his beautiful light, That shone oh so bright whenever it Laughed or smiled, or felt joy, To breathe again. To say hello. But maybe itâs better for him that wishes Don't come true. Because if they did, Heâd be a ghost. The abuse he endured wasn't okay. Murdering them wasnât okay. But he was. And that's all that ever mattered anyway.
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