Doux coeur lacéré

Angry fox looking upon the past, bristled hairs, always on its guards, bent forward, ready to attack, whatever comes its way, it distrusts hidden traps.

Everything turned into ashes, ivy leaves stayed, will they ever stop growing back.

When EvilPlant took its arm, slicing was the first solution, vain solution.

It hurt trying to get rid of it like this, and it left marks, forever marks.

After harsh battles, it seemed under control, but this is where it learned that EvilPlant don’t die, it stays hidden, deep in the ground.

Was it being closer to nature that made the joke, for he used to climb and the arm was touched, now he walked on grass, and it came again, another limb.

His ankle, lacerated.

In last resort it burnt everything, hoping that EvilPlant would leave, but, it’s inside it, to kill it would only be denial.

Forces beyond its comprehension kept him up.

Desperately trying to break the thin invisible strings holding it, to be free, to grow strong. For we can be no puppets if ye truly desire.



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