Death from the eyes of a cute girl.

And she says, she tells me what she saw in that image of the undoing of the world.
And I realize just how few of death my eyes have took along this years and just how much of death there is in the world at theend of (any) day
I think to myself if it was correct to do such things, as to present her with such a shadow of a memory.

To see her eyes have my own full of memories of a different age, and different situations.

And I realize just how much of ignorance I do have by seeing all of her road and her image of death.

I think to myself as to change such image of the world, and remake it.

Just for her.