Speaking of remorse and a dreadful past, I wish to tell a story of a girl I just met. I drew her face for she insisted upon it.

It was the face of an angel but I saw the devil in her eyes, I swear it! And soon enough, the tale of regret rose to her lips.

At times I think we dwell too much in the past; other times we drown in waves that have yet to come. If only we paid heed to the precious present; we may yet save ourselves the pain of tomorrow.

But who am I to say such things? I, too am guilty of my own accusations.

6 of Hearts

The beast was here all along…