She's densely inbreathing hope. Barely sees dazzling brightness like she used to await during summer, yet still can conjure up a nostalgic image; a glimpse of an incandescing light across the prairie. some says; she'll end up dying in the arms of nobody and it'll be a tragic end for her lonesome soul, that she'll keep plunging in the abyssal despair - in the underworld; will walk towards sheer emptiness without a hand to hold, and that she'll forever be alone even until her death. But will she? it's either her feet will wander with someone in pavements destined for an overwhelming brokenness; nor stroll solely in a rough road yet enshrouded with faith and blood of salvation. Just her heart alone desiring to reach the destination where she'll be fully satisfied of what the world can never offer, nor any man. nonetheless, 'though her eyes are half closed, a beam plastered on her face are visible enough to comprehend that she's delighted, delivered.
A woman without a man but have lived with God, will rejoice even in her deathbed, for she knows she'll be free from the world of mundane that burns the soul.
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She speaks
Poetrypoems and proses that blooms within Her; like a sunflower that was diluted by pouring rain and thereupon flourish. ©2021 EnigmaticDamsel
