Love; Greatly profounded just as the sweet aromas of benevolent affections. Tides above grounds, hitting the glooms of nightmares.
Haven't the heart lost its beats, when sorrow clings, holding tight with sadden claws driving in, or when the moon performs its dance in the mists.
A remedy to cure lost hopes, a single word that blooms the night.
********
Right after the Incidents of witnessing angels and Demons Battle against each other, Eleanor decided a 'vacation' as she called it, would be better.
Her vacations However all took place at home, with the best delicacies presented by her Mom.
She knew the days passed on quickly and the stories weren't yet over.
Sitting in the quiet park, one mid-afternoon, Eleanor relaxed her nerves as her ears could only pick up the rustling of bushes and birds singing beautifully at each moment.
"So," the pixie finally showed up after ages, "This story would soon be over."