Today I walk a long, grueling walk. Each step heavy and rife with passion.
With the first stride looms Bitterness. The second moulds Loathing. The third wrenches Malice. The fourth claws at Wrath.
Raw emotion eddies within me and rouses the land I devour. I stagger one last step down the serpentine path, unable to contain the savageness building within me.
I stop and turn slowly.
All colour is leached from the land, yet I gaze at a purple cloud drifting behind me. A delicate, spellbinding creation spawns from feelings so hateful.
As I stand and observe the sparkling mist before me, I am comforted by the thought that at least some sentiment remains in the tedium that tarries around me.
_He had known love, but he never dared dream that he would be loved until he met HER. _ She is pure and good. A symbol of virtue. His companion. The inner turmoil, and the voices telling him he isn’t good enough, isn’t worthy, quiet when she is near.
She is simple, delicate but brave and powerful in the moments that count most. She notices him, peers deep into him, and yet she keeps coming back for more. He knows she must be protected at all costs. HE has to protect her.
She is everything he could never be. After all those years he’d spent in the dark, she is his light. She is his peace.
The young merchant boy heaved out a sigh as he entered the clearing in the forest. He had been travelling for three days now and had another day to go before reaching the neighboring village.
He looked up ahead and couldn’t believe his eyes as he spotted a beautiful tavern sitting atop a shimmering lake. The tavern had such an inviting air that he could feel himself being drawn in, taking a step forward almost involuntarily.
He could nearly feel his aching feet sing with relief and his mouth salivate at the thought of having a rest in this cozy inn. He was so tired and weary, there was no other place he could think of to be than this delightful tavern on the water.
As he approached, he noticed a hazy mist surrounding the tavern like an invisible force field. He cautiously lifted his hand to touch the mist and instantly felt a jolt that stung his skin like an intense burn. He cried out in shock and pain but a mere moment later, the mist parted for him like a curtain, drawn open to reveal the captivating tavern and bright sunlight once again.
Walking through the section that had parted for him in the mist, he began to take in his surroundings more clearly. He was welcomed with alluring sounds and smells, encouraging him to continue along the path. Through the sounds of rustling leaves and chirping birds, he heard a familiar cawing. It took him a second to recognize it, as it was very much out of place in this forest. He heard the unmistakable sound of the green-eyed hawk, a bird he had encountered on his travels. It was a warning for ships that sailed too close to treacherous waters. This bird must have been a long way from home.
Growing nearer to the tavern, the young merchant stopped to observe the exquisite foliage surrounding the lake. Vibrant shades of red, orange and pink flowers coloured the path he followed, each with a complex pattern like a kaleidoscope. Among the flowers he noticed the small grey mushrooms dotting the striking field of colours. They were poisonous mushrooms. One bite and he would fall onto the path before reaching the tavern door, which was now so close to the merchant that he was mere steps away. He thought it odd that something so wild and perilous could grow in this paradise.
Now overcome by his thirst and aching legs, the merchant hobbled the last few steps towards his salvation. He was overcome with anticipation and excitement over what he might find behind the ornately carved wooden doors. As he pushed them open, his senses were flooded with the sweet smell of pies. He felt a rush of warmth and joy spread over him as he stepped into the tavern. He finally had a place to rest and feel safe.
Suddenly, all the candles around him blew out and cold air blasted into the tavern. The sweet smell disappeared just as quickly as it had taken over him. Something felt terribly wrong. Intense dread and fear crept into every crevice of the inn. Just as the doors shut behind him, the merchant’s piercing screams were swallowed by the sinister tavern.
I walk towards the bridge overlooking the vibrant and humming city below. This spot has become my place of comfort where I come to think and feel when things weigh heavy on me. As I approach, I find a strange man already in my spot, illuminated by the warm street lamp above and the moonlight glimmering in the night sky.
I stand next to him, placing my arms over the railing of the bridge. We stand in silence for several heartbeats until he glances over at me and asks in a deep voice dripping with amusement, “Are you here to make a deal with the devil?”
I snap my head towards him and bite back, “And why do you feel that I would need to make such a deal?”
“People seem to find me, one way or another, when they are in their most desperate need for a saviour,” he responds. I was shocked. Could he sense the turmoil and despair leeching out from me?
“They don’t seem to like it when the deepest, darkest facets of themselves are held up to them like a mirror,” he continues. “They don’t want to confront the parts of themselves that would make them run, fast in the opposite direction were they forced to confront it. And they despise it even more when they meet the person that will challenge them with the truths they avoid like the plague.”
Was there a point to this lecture I was forced to endure. The last thing I wanted tonight was to be stuck shouldering someone else’s problems when I was utterly destroyed by my own.
“It’s not easy,” I hear him say, “to see that same hate-filled expression that you wear, directed at me, on the face of every person I have the pleasure of speaking with.”
“Have you ever considered that maybe you’re the problem and an attitude adjustment would fix it right up?” I can’t help the sarcasm that spills out at this man’s self-loathing.
“See that’s where you’re wrong my dear Serafina. It’s not me that they can’t face, but the darkness and flaws within themselves.” I freeze at his mention of my name. How does he know who I am? My name isn’t so common that he could guess it by coincidence. His lips curve up into a devastatingly beautiful smile. “Oh yes, I know who you are, and I know what weighs on you this evening.”
This man really could have been the devil. The arrogance, the smugness and the horrifying yet undeniable charm. Was I really falling into his trap?
His smile falters, “It’s not meant to be a trap.”
“It’s a lonely cause, bestowing people with their truths. But there cannot be light without the darkness. If there is no bad, there is also no chance for the good. Love, for oneself and for others, stands no chance if we refuse to embrace both.”
Before I have a chance to process his words, he takes a long, strained breath and walks away, disappearing into the shadows. Then, I’m left on my own again staring out into my city, wondering where it all went wrong.
I took a sip from my red solo cup just as everything around me froze. My friends were paused mid-laughter and a ping pong ball flying across the room had halted, a little too close to my raised hand.
It was happening again, but how? Did I do it? This was the third time in the past week that time had stood still, leaving me unscathed.
Panic rushed into me as I darted my eyes around, searching for something that could explain what was going on. Somewhere within me, mixed with the dread and frenzy was a curiosity.
I replayed the last fifteen minutes in my head trying to look for some sort of pattern that could connect the three instances. I had walked up the stairs and entered my best friend’s apartment only to be immediately cornered by the guy who lived down the hall. He had been relentless in trying to capture my interest but I swiftly managed to slip past him and make my escape towards the kitchen for a drink. Nothing amiss there. I then grabbed a cup and started to pour - there was a sudden movement, dragging me out of my recollection.
A shadow flickered on the other side of the room. Emerging from behind one of the party guests, was a tall, young man. He had jet black, side-swept hair and was dressed in equally dark clothing. He wore a stern expression but I noted a glint in his eyes that mimicked my own curiosity.
He watched me keenly and I found myself walking towards him like I was being pulled by an invisible force. My legs moved involuntarily as if there was nothing else in the world for me to do but reach this unknown man. My shock and confusion grew. How was he the only other person in this room, aside from me, not still frozen in time?
As I neared him, I noticed his hand was now outstretched and slowly reached for me. I took his hand delicately, but without hesitation. He led me out the sliding balcony door, the brisk night air gently grazing my flushed cheeks. He carefully helped me up onto the balcony ledge, hand still gripping my own. He then seamlessly climbed up himself to join my side. He turned to stare at me, such intensity and amusement in his gaze. With a quiet, casual breath we both stepped off.
Find me down the garden path and walk the same steps that I have.
Feel the warm rays that touched my sunkissed skin. Smell the sweet honeysuckle that soothed my aching lungs. Tune in to the melody of the chirping birds that caressed my idle ears. Graze your hands across the soft petals that stroked my fingertips, as light as feathers.
Feel your body buzzing with the life that flooded my senses.
As you reach the end of the path, slowly open the white gate. Under that wooden arch, you will feel me there, just as I was that blissful summer afternoon.
She’s not who she says she is. She’s so much more.
That smile hides the scars that cut her so deep but she is not just a survivor, she thrives.
She took the scraps the world gave her and created treasures. She accepted the hatred thrown her way and returned tenderness instead. She transformed the dreariness around her into bright, beautiful life.
The mask we’re shown is so SHE can control her story. It doesn’t matter what people think, as long as those dear to her know the true woman underneath.
What we see is shallow, but the spirit of this woman knows no bounds.
A small dark figure dressed in robes climbed atop the cliff guarding my home. He summoned a dark power, wielding storms and treacherous waves.
I rose from the deep ocean to meet him and discern what cause had brought him to disrupt my peace. His bright red eyes flashed and a vicious smile curved his lips as he stared at something behind me. I turned to see my offspring poking his head cautiously above the water.
Fear and rage filled me as his dreadful plan was revealed. I snapped my gaze back towards him and before he could raise his limbs to strike again, I erupted my own power. Strong torrents of water spewed from every orifice I possessed. I was determined to stop him, to shield my offspring.
I sprayed another torrent towards him causing his footing to slip. The storm continued to brew around me as he retaliated, but I only grew in temper. I rose taller and summoned every ounce of strength in me to send one final force towards him. I heard his piercing scream before I watched him tumble off the cliff and into the depths below.
Relief washed over me as my surroundings slowly began to shift and the water calmed. I tucked my baby under my tentacles and held him close. For him, I would always unleash the monster within, if it meant I could be his hero.
A lonley corpse sat by his grave waiting for a visitor. He searched high and low for a loved one, a friend, really anyone that could give him company, but no one came to see him.
Day after day he sat and waited for his companion, but once the sun set, he wept for his broken heart. The ground, soaked in his tears, was still damp by morning time.
One bright spring morning as he emerged to sit atop his grave, he noticed a bed of delicate colours around him. Where the stocky brown tree roots covered the ground and the thick fog hung low, beautiful flowers beamed back and filled the air with their exquisite perfume.
Despite his sorrow and the dull ache he had come to know so well, he couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face as he became smitten with this unbelievable sight.
He then took his usual seat on his grave and was filled with a new knowing that every tear he shed had in lieu brought him a new stem of hope.
When I died, my shadows decided they would take over.
They took on the role of protector and did this so meanacingly, like a parent scolding a naughty child. They crawled through the cracks of buildings and sidewalks, ready to catch anyone who dared fall.
It’s as if no one was left on guard, except my gallant shadows, the hopelessly romantic bards.
