Untitled Diary.

Also unfinished, but my thought of an ideal hook.

A story, It begins with a hook, by which you are it’s catch, And until you behold it’s back cover, you have become it’s  prisoner, A tightly bound captive. Unfortunately, This is not one of those stories, It could very well never be told. My wish to inspire you may never enter through realities door. But my unfolding begins with a name. And through this one name, Speaks the beginning of my story, My life, written in words. My soul, bleeding on paper. This may be a tragedy, It may be a love story. It could very well, be a  comedy. But this will be more that just true loves kiss, More than just  death of a foe, It may change your life forever, as it did mine. And this my friend, is my hook. 

The name, Was Constance. By which, I would take a hail of bullets, just to hear the collision.  Her soul, Too pure for innocent eyes. Her mind, Flawless, and naïve