Mademoiselle Hyde

I am the kind of mind, 
Who’s torn in two.

The mirth of the undying fire wildly dancing inside her. The lure of flaming desire slowly oozing out of her soul. The sweet temptation is howling upon her impulse. And the raging eyes of hers revealing the sign of fervor as ever. What does she feel? She knows very well that the wilderness part of her mind could ever be untamed. Her body always wanted her to dance, unchained, breaking-free, and drown into her blazing passion for the endless time being as the fire would always be unwatered. She feels hot, yet numbly frozen inside. The mixture potion of hot and cold wrangling inside her blood, just like the gulf of Alaska. No longer she felt the pain of the heat, nor she paralyzed upon the cold. She’s torn in between, for her own soul tear herself apart.

She is indefinable. She’s always looking at the world like a glistering desert, yet she has no such yen for touching the sand. Despite of being afraid of getting hurt, she would be much prefer of delving the skill of self control. Alas, her inner impulsive spirit keeps jostling out of her Harem, and God knows what will be happened hereafter. Sometimes she wished that she could be just fine as any other woman whose voice as calm as caressing breeze and her conduct as refined as delicate ballroom-dancer. But she was destined to be different. She’s wild. People mindlessly may recognize her as Jane Bennet. What they didnt know was that she’s been restraining her Mademoiselle Hyde as much as she could. She realized that her fire would lit brighter than any fire do, her gaze would sway wider, and her lips tenser than those sweet liars. How does she ever could be tamed? Who would want to interfere oneself with this kind of twisted angel and demon? Who’s gonna be the martyr to such ferocious lass?

She’s waiting.

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