A constant struggle between her mind and her body, her thoughts, they were scattered…
A creative ode to the storms we battle
A piece by Wings
A storm arose.
The eye of the hurricane followed.
The wind blew wildly,
And the streets were empty.
Array, were the leaves of a far away tree in frenzy,
As the dark clouds invaded the fields above
And the lightning lit up the night sky.
A battle of cry, the angels sang.
A shrill shriek, the devils let out.
It started pouring, the devil’s blood.
The angel wings bled their blue spirit.
Out to challenge, out to win
They rose from the skies
And rose from the benthic seas.
She sat on the brink of purgatory
Choosing her words, clearing her mind,
Weighing the scales of divinity.
Too many choices from which
She had to choose
A side to tip the balance,
Choose between good and evil
Her nature or what made her.
A constant struggle between her mind and her body,
Her thoughts, they were scattered
Smeared on her model,
She had to sort her colors,
She wanted to embrace her true form-
Mould her soul to her belief.
The swords clashed,
The fury burst,
In flames, it rained of ashes,
As the heavens roared
And groaned in pain,
It was violence she saw,
Life she feared,
Freedom she yearned,
And the future she anticipated…