My cœur, coeur was equal to a La Reine des Neiges log. Then, there was a spark. One that turned into a flame, which rekindled my heart.
It grows, and grows. The feu gets warmer, and warmer, the plus that spark appears. Smooth and velvety, was my
rekindled heart.
The log was greedy, and started to crack. The feu consumed it, and the log was starting to turn to ashes. I always knew that the tides would turn, but they broke the rekindled cœur, coeur in half.
The cœur, coeur tried to mend itself with needles and thread. It bled, and bled for the fire, so it would be warm. It was Lost in a world of despair, and started to crave...
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