She Walks

And one day she decided to walk, to leave everything behind and just walk, not out of anyone but herself. So, she walked, barefooted, bruising her heels, bleeding, yet she walked – The blood, her protégé. So, she walked.

For she couldn’t bear to stop, she would run out of her own skin if she could. If only tears could wipe away the gory memories in her mind, for she cries an ocean. Her mind a hamlet of a pain too familiar messed up too much for comprehension – so, she walked.

No one has ever seen, nor known pain this beautifully robbed – for she wears it so elegantly. None has ever known hatred as her shambled heart – yet, effortlessly she loves. For the smile is a façade – a picture-perfect one. So, she walked.

There were times she stumbled, yet she walked. On sinking sands, she walked. On thorn streets, she walked. Her cuts ever bleeding, and she couldn’t bear to stop.

Racing from her own images, a picture painted with blood, from flood, on blood. Her story, a tale told amongst immortals – how she walked from amongst men to become a deity. Her pain, her focal point – so, she walked.

For she had seen it all and lived enough. For now, she cared less about the memories in her mind. She’s first her own mirror, then a mirror to those brave enough to see that she’s a reflection of death made alive. For ‘twas from her death she walked.

To places no one dared, she walked - Leaving behind footprints people believed to be a myth. Shedding pieces of herself along the trail of her life’s end. She walked because that’s all she knows to do - so, she walked.

She’s an enigma – life’s potent. She walks, hoping, believing that someday, she’d get it all. Hoping that for all the reasons, the logic and odysseys – she’d come to the end of her walk.

And the scars tell a beautiful tale of the woman who defied nature and attained immortality. The woman who against all odds turned her pain into pleasure. The woman was made of steel and stones, forging a crown from her sorrows.

Until then, she walks still!!!