The old woman told a story. About a young girl on a beautiful white horse. She danced on her heels, flowers in her hair and her hands. Dreamed of far-fought wars and glimmering swords. Of forts climbed and pebbles in the sand.
And the monsters walked into their gardens. They were scaled and green, wearing masks of fear. Shadowed cloaks trailed them. They tread in uncertainty. Wolves howled in sorrow and rains lashed at them. They were large and grey, and they crushed everything in sight. Their eyes pierced death into the victims. Killed their hopes, ravaged their minds. Left them crying, their souls in distress.
And the monsters served her in her head. She tried to slay them, but she could not. She tried not to fall to them, but she would not. She tried not to lose her mind, but she had to. The hallowed gods looked upon her no more. The flowers in her hair wilted away.
And the nightmares came calling in their dreams.
And the monsters walked into their gardens. They were scaled and green, wearing masks of fear. Shadowed cloaks trailed them. They tread in uncertainty. Wolves howled in sorrow and rains lashed at them. They were large and grey, and they crushed everything in sight. Their eyes pierced death into the victims. Killed their hopes, ravaged their minds. Left them crying, their souls in distress.
And the monsters served her in her head. She tried to slay them, but she could not. She tried not to fall to them, but she would not. She tried not to lose her mind, but she had to. The hallowed gods looked upon her no more. The flowers in her hair wilted away.
And the nightmares came calling in their dreams.
1 comment:
Very Impressive flow of words.
The line "She tried to slay them, but she could not. She tried not to fall to them, but she would not. She tried not to lose her mind, but she had to." -- It seems to represent the act of living itself -- No one can ever be sure of the choices they make in life.
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