Birth of a Spirit

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
This was written after a dream. This woman, whom I was watching in this scene changed so drastically from being human to something so entirely ethereal... it seems only fitting to write about this.

Submitted: May 07, 2010

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Submitted: May 07, 2010

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Her palms are sweaty.
She sees the velvety waves before her sight.
Her heart is a jackhammer
Begging to explode in her chest.
She smells the air—
It is filled with shadows and cold molecules.
Her mind is racing
As the temptation to look behind grows more vehement.
Looking behind would leave her
As a pillar of salt—
Worse than dead…
Dead and useless.
She must dive into the unknown.
Her lungs endure pressure beyond
What any human can imagine.
She endures the loneliness and the dark.
Her eyes are bleeding and sliding down her face due to
The corrosion of the sea.
Her youth is peeled away by the tides
Layer by layer.
Then, the tide offers her to a distant shore—
One free of strife
And accepting of any intentions.
Once on this shore,
She breathes.
The trees stir.
She props herself up.
Birds spread their wings to fly readily.
She sighs.
A cool breeze lifts the tiger’s frown.
She, the lady born from necessity and trial,
The soul that is kind
And breathtakingly cruel,
Is the spirit of the wind.


© Copyright 2020 Snow412. All rights reserved.

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