Fiery toughness, pockets of hope, ready to conquer.

Fiery toughness, pockets of hope, ready to conquer

She tasted the moonlight on her rosy lips and savored the feeling of heaven and peace. The wind combed the distant hills and howled confessions in empty, lonely plains. Silence exploded, coating walls and door and windows and dust motes. It hung in air, cloaking everything. Her long hair fell loosely around her shoulders like a wave of Black Ocean, glimmering glossy in the dark light. She sat near the intricate window that spread from one end to the other end of her massive room. The rubies and opals that adorned the glistening window sill shone brightly with arcane magic and reflected its rays along her pale beautiful face. Outside huge oak, Jak and coconut trees whispered thick secrets that she bent her ears to the side to snatch a one. Disappointed she looked up, thousands of flickering stars dusted the almighty sky. Pink purple silver gold numerous colors burst into splendid fireworks that she jerked back, surprised. Her heart pounded hard against her rib cage struggling to fly away. Her ears drummed with vibrations, she shut closed her eyes.

Praying.

Muttering.

Dear Lord forgive me. I heard sound. The sound that you don’t like. I heard something. Something called sound. Something that I don’t like either. Forgive me my ears are no longer locked. Tears streamed down her face. She never liked the silence either. Silence that bind her bones and silence that ringed her skull and silence that wrapped around her. Silence that is blinding.

Yet she was used to it. Told to admire it. Told to latch onto it. Yet she didn’t like it. Again silence…

She shivered intensively sweat gathering her forehead. Deafening silence again. Again. Again. Again. Again. No. No. No. No. No.

She fluttered open her eyes stood star struck at the fireworks that beautified the sky again. Like an arc. Deserved to be appreciated. No. Not fireworks. Goose bumps rose along her skin as she realized. They were true.

BOMBS

Where is it headed to? Who is doing this? Don’t they have hearts? Are they fishes with partially matured hearts or Echinodermatas with no hearts at all?

Her head racked with questions upon questions as she let her eyes witness the horror above.

Why do they kill? Does the sight of blood entertain them? Don’t they have families? Families that stands through thick and thin? Don’t they have souls? Do they think they have the right to extract their fellow brother’s soul? The soul that only belongs to the mighty invisible energy above. Aren’t they afraid of blood? Is power such a huge thing for them? Do they think power will save them? Do they think weapons will help them on the day of reckoning? Aren’t they at least scared? That they will face the consequences of their own actions?

She knew there was nothing she could do. The sound of gunshots will fill the entire night. Children would be curled like a ball under their bed sheets, infants will scream for silence and peace. Parents would usher around confused and paralyzed.

A drop of something soaked her midnight strand of hair. She looked up again. Letting again a drop to fall into her golden eyes. The sky is breaking she thought. She shuddered as the rain poured down in a hurry blackening her cloths as she sat near the window sill, pooling in the folds of the curtains. The sky darkened soberly. Thunder roared in the distance. Her ears caught the promise of a storm. A sudden gust of wind shattered her thought.

She wanted to help. To reach out. Yet she was confined. Confined between four walls. Confined around the fences of her consciousness. She feared the consequences. She wanted to do something. The air kept hushing and swishing around her, wrapping her with its cold fingers. She sighed. She watched the raindrops burst into the earthly ground as they landed. Landed to be at peace. Yet destiny betrayed them. Told them they will be okay. Patted them on their back only to be tumbled right out of the sky. Towards an uncertain end.

She yearned for that feeling. The feeling of sunlight bathing her face in the dawn. The feeling of being touched. Feeling of being hugged. Feeling of comfort. Feeling of peace. Feeling of silence. Feeling of happiness. Curse those feelings. Where did they go? Will they come again? Visit us and embrace us? No? Feeling of healthy.

Where are you? We didn’t love you enough did we? We are miserable without you, she mouthed the words devoid of feelings.

Pathetic.

She let her hair enjoy its freedom. She let loose them to the threatening night. She didn’t care. Didn’t care who was going to do the next thing. Didn’t care what will happen next. For she was determined. She was going to be the next shooting star of help. She will stand and help. Scream and yell. Throw words and argue. She was not going to take no for an answer. She had seen too much. Too much to stay silent. Too much. Too much.

Time has come. Everybody has one. She has her one too. She was going to conquer the world. Conquer the so called commanders and leaders and hypocritical saviors. She was going to reveal. She was going to conquer the world with roaring and silence. Roaring and silence. She had tasted the fear, the irrationality, hunger and the hypocrisy.

She wanted to taste anew. Something fabulous. Something like light. Something like swift wind. Something like glimmering diamonds. Something like moral codes. She was going to unleash her power. Not from a BMW. Not from a luxurious plane. Not from a VIP passenger pass. But from her window sill.

Her long awaited time has come. Enough of rupturing the innocent sky. Enough of scaring the little souls. Enough of earning power and approval from others. Enough of all the bloodshed. Enough of revenge. Enough of the illegal stuff. Enough of the killings and the bombings. Enough of skin color. Enough of politics. Enough of religious superiority. Enough of the fake facades. Enough of the perfectionism. Enough of the misogyny. Enough of the masochiny.

She gulped the scented air letting it filter through her lungs. Letting the fieriness run down her body. Mixed with blood and power. Empathy and humanity. She had pockets of hope. And she was ready for it. Ready to seize the butterfly and unleash to the entire universe. Power ran down her body as her armor grew. Tough as a nail bed,

All in all with a thought from her window. a window of magic portal. a window of hope.