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ㅤ│ “Do I still have a right to live
ㅤ│ once the poetry is over?”
ㅤ│ Soothfast thine, @blithful.

“In the fleeting moments of jubilation, one must embrace the euphoria with open arms. For such moments are but transient, like whispers in the wind, destined to fade into the recesses of memory. Yet, in the midst of this ephemeral joy, As the final lines of the poem reached my ears, a tumultuous wave of emotions surged within me. Restless and unsettled, I impulsively discarded the remnants of my futile attempts at capturing the essence of my thoughts. Papers, once adorned with ink that had been carelessly expended, now lay discarded, their purpose lost, like feathers drifting away on a gentle breeze. As I wandered through the dimly lit attic, my eyes fell upon a forgotten relic, a piece of paper that seemed to have weathered the passage of time. Its edges were frayed, its surface yellowed with age.”

(’..Syllabus, catalogue.)

ㅤ (’..Requirements, regulation.)

ㅤ(’..Evidence, testimonials.)

Intrigued, I gingerly picked it up, my fingers trembling with anticipation. As I unfolded the delicate parchment, my eyes scanned the faded ink that adorned its surface, revealing an inheritance syllabus, a testament to a bygone era.

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