She danced, she jumped; she fell.
She flew high, made pirouettes and gracefully let herself
fall.
She let the wind take her and place her where it wanted.
She wouldn't argue, she promised.
Long ago, she made a promise to flourish from the crowd and
she did.
She fell to the river, where she traveled for a while.
She waited patiently, no resistance.
She arrived to the shore, having enjoyed the course.
She dried up, and continued the journey.
She was the most beautiful one yet, making her mother so
proud. She lived her life, gracing everything around her. While the world kept
turning selfish, cruel and ugly she was there to make everyone see the beauty
in it.
She kept floating.
She kept loathing.
She kept routing.
She was approaching.
She arrived to the age which people do not identify as beautiful anymore, but she was the most beautiful of them all; and no young one can ever
replace the beauty that in her time she gave to the world.
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