Here witnessed the haven of the nymphet-
the pure embodiment of physical struggle;
an angel that was thorn off of its wings.
"How much trust are you willing to feed me."
With anger on his lips, the barista answered
"Trust me you do; trust him answer your own!"
While pointing a finger at the figure.

Her lungs suffocated, as well as the atmosphere;
the development of her being is now shaded with fear!