They once believed the Earth was flat,
resting on the shoulders of distant mountains —
but truth revealed a sphere, floating, bold.
They thought the edge of the clouds housed God,
a distant Creator cloaked in mystery.
They feared Him, called Him a destroying giant,
until they saw—He is near,
gentle enough to hold hearts in His palm.
The sea was seen as tender, calm —
yet it drowns, it devours.
The sun, adored for warmth and light,
burns with fury, bites with fire,
and shows no mercy to the unguarded.
So is Greecy’s life painted.
She was thought to be cradled by helping hands,
dependent, fragile.
But she walks alone —
not shaped by voices that aren’t her own,
yet bound to a force unseen,
like gravity that keeps Earth dancing in the void.
They called her cold, harsh, untouchable —
yet her arms are open,
her words soft,
her soul, love,
even for hearts carved from stone.
They looked at her beauty, her gentle gaze,
the silk of her skin,
and said, “She is harmless.”
But she wounds.
She thinks she harms others,
but slowly, she’s burning herself—
tearing her light from within.
By hurting what surrounds her,
she bleeds her tenderness dry,
silencing her own melody.
They mistook her radiance for sweetness,
her glow for grace —
but she is a flame.
Without protection, she scorches.
Without understanding, she consumes.
And Ariel saw.
He saw how people draw conclusions
before knowing the soul behind the stare.
He learned:
Silence the noise.
Feel the music within.
Let it echo through your bones.