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Traces of You
I observed a single droplet, its languid journey escaping my veins and plunging into the maw of a bloodthirsty beast. Thick, warm, and crimson, it absconded with a tiny part of my soul.

I observed a piece of my flesh sacrificed on the altar of an insatiable demon. To this day, I remember the pain when a dull, rusted knife carved it from my body. I cannot find the scar, though; it must have been the part of my heart.

I witnessed a slender strand of light, a dying flicker inside my eye, evaporating from my awareness. My final glimpse of her. I tried to catch it, keep it, and stop it. Effortlessly, it slipped through my fingers and left me standing stupefied, like the fool that I am, trying to catch the inevitable.

What is this sound that haunts me - sobs, screams, or perhaps laughter? Why can I not shake off the feeling of this great sorrow and impending disaster that follows?

© Shinku