Her armour falls as she wanders the vast wasteland, she often wonders if she were the instigator for the many battles that ravished her world, was she the one who destroyed this place? Though the trenches are few and far between she still falls, struggling with the thought that perhaps she dug them herself, with her recklessness and expectations. Pulling at the walls to get out she slowly fills them in. Small holes they have become, but she won’t fill them in completely, not yet.
Picking up the pieces one by one, she knows he has departed for good, he has found another home, another paradise as this once was. Wrecked with guilt and remorse, she wishes him back, her world not the place he wishes to be anymore, an equal hand that slew the sword of destruction he cannot face the outcome, he leaves, unable to see the garden it once was. He looks at her and sees every flaw, hears those cruel words echoing through the wind, feels the wounds reopen and ache without mercy, he no longer sees the beauty that once was, that once stood upon the broken debris that littered the ground. He no longer feels the warmth that she once emanated for him, he feels only pain and regret.
Empty, void of feelings, she is compelled to rebuild, driven by the remnants of truths scattered in lies, driven by the pain in her chest where her heart once rested, driven by the pure ambition of a woman who has fought every ounce of herself away and is left with nothing but a shadow, she has nothing left but wounds to remind her that there may have been a terrible war, but she still stands.
The ground won’t be ready for natural growth for some time, the skies, though clearer still have the lingering essence of grey. She clears the ground of debris, and can do no more until the ground recovers from the damage it has withstood. So she lies down, and stares at the sky, slowly she closes her eyes and dreams that when she awakens, her world will be ready for a new beginning.
No comments:
Post a Comment