Nálada

Leila

Did you foresee this blood-spattered end, my friend? The heart that got snagged on the jagged edge of your indecision, now lay torn and tattered at your feet. My fingers closed around its feebleness, cradling it in the palm of my hands and I felt an overwhelming sense of pain in the cavity which used to hold it safe from harm. I looked at you with eyes that did not remember how to cry. It must had been hours that I stood there with my heart out in my hands.
The silence was deafening.

Leila, I whispered.

With a nod, I turned my back on you. There was something more precious that I had to save. And I was sorry it was not you.

You knew I forgave you for all the things that you could never say.

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