Maybe this is the reason why she wonders.
She stands in the clear waters,
Not rippled, not troubled but clear.
A warrior isn't meant to stand pretty.
Her echoes of wails and laughters haunt her..
The call for unannounced arrivals
And the murmurs when she sleeps..
The sound of her sanity in peaks
Or the battle cry for her soul to speak
Seeps to the core of every fiber of being.
Without them she feels as if...
As good or better yet as pathetic
As a dying entity or a corpse-
Frigid, soulless, breathless,
worthless.
🔥
HeraoftheUniverse
YOU ARE READING
When She Stirs
PoetryThere will be a time where you choose to cease so you could commence a higher birth of existence. This one's for those who have felt a dying persona due to conflicts of the spirit, a troubled heart and a mind of chaos. Afflictions exist to mold a be...
