This is my first story so... On the dark side of the moon. In its bloodied side of gloom. In its darkest little crevice there was a flower in full bloom. The red and black were at war and the poor flower was the reason for this outcome. For it had dared to exist in a world of shadowed stains. The little thing was named Oal. It had dared give itself a name, and had dared fight the world for its freedom. What a silly thing to think that little Oal could do such a thing.
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