Sacrificing her blue blood my pen imprinted my thoughts in a manner so perfect and smooth the handiwork produced enchantment whenever anyone saw it. Though she was destined to die I still remember her. She was in the small pocket of my blazer at all times and whenever I wrote with her it looked like all the universe had stopped and I was on the verge of a breakthrough. Now that I am living in the riches I have amassed through the hundreds of acclaimed writings I wrote with my pen, her thought never vanishes. I feel like I will never be able to write again.
I wrote this in school. Its small because the limit was seven sentences. The writing is according to the requirement of the question.