I found her on the seedy streets of Japan,
A withered cherry blossom in a can.
She merely needed a light,
An escape from the dark's bite.
Bold crimson petals adorned her frame,
With a porcelain so white and fragile to maim.
But for all her deformities, was an ethereal beauty
That could divert even the most sober of men on the line of duty.
Entranced by
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