Her life was an abyss of cold memories 

And empty promises,

That leaked from the corners of her eyes

Into the vast beyond of the future,

Where suns ended 

And supernovas began.

Her lungs were clouded 

With the burning ash of

A fiery self-hatred.

Lost galaxies of exploding gases 

Pooled in her veins.

Her skin itched with the 

Regret of a one-thousand-man army.

Her mind was a void,

Empty of hope

And layered with her struggles.

And she was a storm.

She was a storm that 

Lingered in the Field of Asphodel.

She was a storm that leveled worlds

And ended the universe.

She was a storm.

And nobody tried to stop her.