NASTASYA FILIPINOVA

 "Sometime in the afternoon, I started to read

Pages through pages, my eyes tread

She lived a life, everyone would dread

Never bent her spine, I commend

Holding my breath, I wanted her pain to end

Watching her struggle

Her hope getting crumpled,

People misusing her, left-right, and center

I saw self-loathing become her epicenter, 

Half past the book, I saw no respite

To the constant strife

She's faced in her life

Still holding the hope intact

I waited for things to rightly act, 

Closed the book to start reading afresh

Wasn't ready for what happened next

Her pain ended when she took the final breath

She's still dead, I rechecked time hundredth

I sat there in awe, what have I witnessed

Sometime later, the sun came up

And reality set in

Had she not died, I wouldn't be sitting to write

For ending her struggles and strife

That life has more to offer, than a butcher's knife

However, some souls do need to die

For authors to make characters immortalize"