Juliet Capulet's P.O.V. Of Her Death

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Words cannot heal this broken soul alone. It's farr too damaged already...maybe too late to save the sane "me". Constantly faced with pain and torture...save me before all is lost. Save me before my life is the past...no longer present or future.
My life's death's strength, which was once death's foe. My death can be smelt three times better than the human senses...death awaits. Nearer and closer it lurks by the second, by the minute, by the hour, and by the day. Nothing can defy my untimely grieveful death. It is unavoidable; unescapable. And I stood there, staring down death in the eyes, thinking of one last word before I sunk the blade into my black heart and collapsed forever...Romeo.





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