She Was The Final Destination For The Lost, Unkept Souls Of Her World

Summary

A woman collects lost souls and unspoken dreams, storing them in her heart, while bearing the scars of her own pain, yet remains unbroken and empowered by the moonlight.

Abstract

The narrative depicts a woman who roams the countryside in the twilight hours, determined to gather wayward spirits and silent aspirations. She shelters these souls within her heart, which also harbors her own forgotten dreams. Despite the emotional burden, she finds solace and rejuvenation in the beauty of the night. Her resilience is underscored by the physical and emotional scars inflicted by those close to her, which she wears as badges of honor. The observer, moved by her strength and sorrow, reflects on the cruelty that causes such pain and the fall from grace that angels endure when their wings are torn.

Opinions

The woman's mission to collect lost souls and dreams is portrayed as a noble and fulfilling endeavor, despite the emotional toll it takes.
She accepts her role and the pain that comes with it, finding beauty and power in her scars, which are seen as tattoos that tell her story.
The observer expresses a deep empathy for the woman, mourning her suffering and admiring her unacknowledged strength.
There is a sense of injustice in the way her loved ones have marked her, yet she remains unbroken, suggesting a critique of the cruelty inflicted upon those who are strong.
The woman's connection with the night, where she recharges and feels praised by the moon and stars, symbolizes a source of strength and renewal that contrasts with the daytime world of her tormentors.
The reference to fallen angels and the tearing of wings implies a metaphor for the loss of innocence and the harsh realities that can break even the most divine spirits.

She had quite the collection

Image courtesy of Pixabay

She wandered the countryside in the hours between dusk and dawn She was on a mission, as she searched high and low, consistently, Looking to add to her current collection of surly, lost and unkept souls She was not deterred when they put up a fight, searching persistently.

She housed these homeless souls within the walls of her bloody heart Where she also stored her collection of forgotten and unspoken dreams, Her heart would swell with the added additions, fulfilled and content She’d no consideration, for the fact her heart was bulging at the seams.

After traipsing of the hillside, her collection complete, she’d dance Undressing as she moved, so she could skinny dip in the moonlight, Recharging her power, restoring her energy, refilling her breasts Of the moon’s praise, the stars laughter and fireflies of the night.

I often watched in sadness and despair, as her loved ones carved deep Highlighting their secret names, to ensure her constant source of pain, Her belly, her breast and her thighs all bore the devastating red marks She would smile as she ran her fingers over the scars again and again.

She wore these deeply scarred tattoos with pride, loving every single one And as I watched, I swear I heard her mutter to herself, with a long sigh, “It will take more than a few lost, unkept souls with their unspoken dreams To break this beast, with their permanent scars, tattoos and cruel lies.”

She may smile while suffering this pain, but I could not help but mourn My tears streamed like the clouds weep, at the parched earth’s loud call, My heart breaking on her behalf, as she fails to recognise her strength I finally understand how wings were torn from angels, when they fall.

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