The Sudden Death
It died a sudden, unnatural death after only a few, albeit enjoyable, weeks of its birth. The question is not why it died, but how it came to a point where it was suffocated with such aggression. In actuality, it was only getting to be alive, enjoying inhaling the fresh summer air, admiring the colourful butterflies fluttering across white lilies, birds chirping away, the spectacular colours of the rainbow, and the thorn birds singing their song. It was euphoric to be alive, yet the tango dance in the rain was abruptly cast away. Perchance this murderer of innocence ought to be brought to justice; perhaps the murderer and his psychopathic tendency ought to be shrugged off. Perhaps he ought to be forgiven.
The phoenix shall rise again from its ashes. It shall claim its rightful prize in the second life!
