All things that begin must come to an inevitable end. A cry of distress, in an unfamiliar world and hence begins life.
Some live for a 100 years without being alive for even a second of it. We are our own undoing. Blessing or tragedy?
Stop and smell the roses, they say. Maybe I should become that rose and carry that beauty within me.
I wish to forge my own path. Untethered, free and wild. Liberated from this worldly cage, and when Death finally finds me may it find me alive.
The other day, I came across an African proverb : “When death comes to find you, may it find you alive.”
We spend a lot of our lives being held back by trying to become what we think others expect us to be. We let ourselves be trapped in a cage.
Our soul knows what it wants. At this very moment, it’s speaking to you. Listen. Then go do it, grab it, live it.
Something went wrong with my WP a few days ago, and this got posted before I was done editing it. I removed it as soon as it happened, but a few of you had already read it and left comments. I’m sorry I had to delete that post because it just wasn’t ready. This is the final and improved version!
Shamelessly, she held onto that sliver of hope. The odds, ludicrously against her. Yet she stood her ground, grasping on to it. Maybe that was her strength.
Her combat had just ended, blood trickled down her skin. Clothes clung to her body, and a thousand scars adorned her form.
Yet she chose to believe, that humanity, the very one that had killed her lover and forced her to battle unknown anonymous heroes at the border was capable of warmth.
Anticipating that the end of the war would mean an end to all sufferings, she returned home, giddy with joy, only to find rubble and debris where her home was.
Dejected and in anguish, she made her way towards the young boy in the middle of the wreckage and as the toddler wrapped his little body around her leg, shrieking with joy, she knew that her sliver of hope had survived.