It was a misty night, cold. I hurried through, with no time to waste, the clock near due. Beneath a streetlamp's ghostly glow, I saw a lady, her head hung low. Eyes dark as midnight, shoulders weighed, her voice a whisper, sorrow's shade. "How can anybody live," she breathed, "through a suffering life like this?" a spectral plea, despair wrapped tight in mystery. I paused, my deadline was urgent, true—yet here she stood, lost and blue. Time pressed on, its heartbeat loud, but I stayed, drawn by her sad shroud. She spoke and I listened to her woahs, lost dreams, bitter ends, and minutes slipped, like fading friends. As dawn’s dew softened the ground, she made an unexpected shift, revealing her secrets in the mist. She vanished, before my eyes without a trace, and I was left far too late to make my grade, I guessed my own aims were now missed by the fog of an accidental nodded-off rest. But I wiped the sleep off my face, went on, hoping to reschedule, and arrived to find, chaos reigned, the remains of a scene, where lives were claimed. Had I been on time, my fate would have been sealed, my end, by these shadows would've been revealed. A dream, a ghost, and angel I don't know - but her sorrow was my salvation's guide and my true heart's test. Some paths, though steeped in sorrow’s art, lead to salvation from the start. The night had whispered, soft and low, sometimes a detour in another's needs is the way to follow life's best streams.
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watermark, low-quality, worst quality, signature, monochrome, 3d, censored, furry, animal, lores, worst quality, mosaic, painting, drawing, cartoon, airbrush, cgi look, anime, cartoon, obscured face, distorted face, blurred face, green, red, orange, brown, rust, yellow, flesh tone colours, peach, flowers, flower, woman, man, human
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