The lonely woman sat in the corner of a soul. She couldn’t do anything other than watch as the man she loves, make love and have a happy life. This is fine, she thought, although she hadn’t seen the faintest of it all. An obsidian flower lasts for twenty-million years. The love of an obsidian blooded demon lasts for twenty million years. Those who are maddened would protect its love for even more than that.

Here lies in the innermost depths of a soul a lonely demonic maiden trapped in her hell. Did she deserve such hell? No, simply, she wanted this, and she couldn’t let him die. Not the human who she thought was her being. Simply, she was with him, and she had held the soul of her pitiful man without him knowing. Once a soul was bonded it could never be parted until absolute annihilation of the soul. The soul of a human could never last for eternity. It could never spend a perpetual life without breaking.

So what does a demoness who had been beaten and sealed inside do? What would she do knowing that if she lets go the soul would crumble? The blood of a demoness was strong and her soul had powers that could sustain a human’s soul. I have the right to let go, she thought, but what if there’s no other realm? The woman asked herself before silence.

One Hundred Years of being sealed. The woman watched as the human struggles. The cycle starts with the boy finding hope. Then she would witness the woes and despair of the woman.

Two hundred years of being sealed. The woman screams yet no one would hear. So she counted the seconds she screamed. It was nothing short but insanity. The continuous suffering of a woman who wouldn’t want to give up. From surviving into enduring. The demoness sat on the corner of the soul.

No, no, never give in, and never give up, she thought. She would imagine the look of the human who trapped her. Hate, no that cannot be, must, and keep on going no matter what?

Five hundred years of being sealed. The woman surrounded her soul with obsidian thorns. No, she must keep the love that cannot be. The man who does not love a demoness. The man who sealed the demoness and left her inside his soul, never to speak, and only buried under legions of hate.

A thousand years of love and yet the soul does not crumble. Please, please, just notice, the soul screams inside. The images of her future succumbing to the fateful day. Ah, the defeat, the running away, the lonesome cycle does not stop. The demoness fell for her captor and now keeps him alive. The stupidity, the lonesome stupidity of a flowery obsidian, now foolishly keeping her man alive.

Two thousand years of love. The woman screams harder than ever.

Five thousand years of love the woman shouts at the barrier of the soul. The sealed soul could not emit power. Only the polluting of the obsidian blood and her soul acting like an engine that the soul survives.

Ten thousand years of love. The soul of the man was a jigsaw puzzle with many pieces scattered. The soul of the woman picks the scattered pieces and forming it again and again. The soul was running on a drying soul of a demoness. Barren, empty, dried, the soul shivers at the fragile soul.

Time passes and the soul shrinks to a candle-flame. The candle-flame contained the soul of the woman and the man that bonded for such a long time. Sealed in harmony and must never be parted.

The woman’s insanity turned into sanity when a million year passed by. She looked through the eyes of the man. Vast mountains of a desert that seems endless. A tower that could not possibly exist was seen on the vision. The tower pierces the ceiling of clouds. The soul turned into an empty void. The woman still sits in the corner with utter silence. Mumbling about the seconds and minutes that passed.

Unable to get out of the soul container. She watched as the man she loves, fall again and again in love with the woman who did not want him. The vision of the many encounters surged inside her mind. She kept a note and started distracting herself.

Five thousand years of insanity that led to a woman’s envy. Unable to grasp the man she loved. Watching forever unable to speak or even hear his voice.

The Obsidian Flower fuels the life of a man who would never appreciate. Unable to grabbed hold without being pricked by its glassy thorns.

The obsidian woman bangs her head on the corners of the soul. Gritting her teeth while watching her man and bonded soul love another.

I am okay, the woman lied to herself. As long as he lives, and I would be forever with him. The liar says while scratching her face inside her own personal hell. Ten thousand years of lies. The fifteenth million years of lies kept. Scratching her nails on the void, hoping, wishing, that she could be her.

Nineteenth million years of love. The woman hears the toddler cries. The obsidian heart broke into millions of pieces. She squats on her empty hell, crying puddles of tears, clutching her chest, bawling, and the envy of a woman who could only act as a fuel for the soul of a man who would never know. The man who thought that the obsidian demoness was long gone. Would never hear her despairing cries. No words would reach the woman. No kindness. The sealed woman lingering inside the soul can never be out. Not even the one who wanted to escape at the ends of her old world couldn’t escape the fate of being sealed.

A million-year-old strong heart broke by the sounds of toddlers crying and its parents hushing the toddlers lovingly. The empty white hell shook and yet the million-year-old soul sat in the corner hugging her knees. Strands of energy being sucked out of her body, fueling the human soul.