Talk:Re: Chapter 154/@comment-217.209.94.177-20171218165710/@comment-27247962-20171224212356

... She is ketchup indiscriminately poured on a hamburger. She is the menace leaving pain in her wake. She is a grafitti illegaly sprayed on one end of a train. She is sigaret smoke passively inhaled by passersby. She is a raindrop in a storm of snowflakes. She is the night that never sees day. She is mud under the shoe of a miner. She is gravity pulling everything back towards herself. She is mass & polarity. She is the human cleric in the party that never heals her allies. She is arguably the most poetic thing in the series right now.