The only memory
The iron whip so aggressively struck my eyes when I finally found refugee but the sky had an iron whip of her own.
She growled as she mercilessly threw children off the clouds, letting them tumble to their deaths, for their blood to explode and spill only to make rivers to be stepped on to be forgotten where no one would remember or mourn for them.
But why?
For no one knew them but the sobbing clouds who could not even give proper closure to their precious babes.
And there I stood, facing him, awaiting his judgement.Confusion overruled my mind.
He once chanted words that sung to my ears. But they were only spoken for that purpose. To manipulate my naivety and run circles around my trust.
And I gave my heart for this.
As the sand flew his out of his mouth, the wind projected the bitterness it spat towards me.
All gave me eyes that did not belong to the living. Smirks of sinister crowded the area.
Ice layered my face as I the withdrawal of my breath.
And the bitch that murdered the youth joined in his amusement when she crackled. My back froze.
Those days where I walked along side him came stabbing me continously, letting all that kept me alive to be sucked out. But I did not scream, I did not cry nor did I die.
But the one who did that day was my heart but what could she do?
She was far to meek to yell in outrage so she fell into a pit, only to become insane.
Thus, the pit she stays in, never to see again. The pit she hides in, never to find love ever again.
Those memories where I laughed and blushed intently, so hard I tried to forget them. But was eyes were kind so this was.hard, until my mind lost feeling for to feel was what nearly got me killed. So numb she turned and reprimanded my youth, telling her all that she once knew was just a lie.
Slowly, my eyes lost their warmth and turned into glass so fragile, a towards it would make it crack.
But the iron whips that strike it so frequently cause the colour to drain only to leave the windows to.my soul empty and make a connection to my soul intangible.
And all I have to remember that bloody day is coldness and anger, nothing more I will say.
Sorry it sucks to some point but I hope you like it:)
By Tara J Andrews (Sleepy Head Youth)
Partly based on my experience
