Wednesday, 19 November 2014

Be Your Own Anchor

The spots of sunlight filtered in through the blinds as I wept. Waterfalls of uncontrollable tears, profound and lost. Please give me something to grapple onto as I am declining, descending, decaying. The skyscraper of life has eradicated my final chance and has sent me flailing into the depths of dark solitude. The hands of the clock spiral like graceful birds yet I am still

falling,
         quicker,
                   deeper…

Just moments before I was to hit rock bottom and meet my calamitous fate, I felt a familiar hand slide into mine, a perfect fit. Using all of her courageous strength she lifted me back to Earth’s surface. She was effortlessly grand. Her character radiated from her entire body as if the world’s beauty had settled under her caramel-coloured skin.

Power.
Hope.
Curiosity.

I repeated the same words all the way up as I floated in a wondrous trance. Gently, like an angel’s touch, she placed me onto the ground. Her hand slowly escaped my firm clutch and slithered away. My eyelids fluttered open but were immediately hit with blinding lights and flashes of movement. I was a butterfly exploding unexpectedly out of my cocoon, finally beginning to understand my purpose in this perplex world.

Original source: here
Edited by Nabsticle

I never encountered her again; my friend, my saviour, my last hope. When the world overpowered me she came, but happened to leave too quickly for me to fully register the cathartic deed she had performed.

Two years later.

I was sitting absent-mindedly staring at my book on the bench outside Block 4, not really concentrating, until I happened to glance down towards my open bag. A scrunched up piece of paper peeped out and almost screamed at me, begging me to pick it up. I ironed out the creases with my fingers and discovered three blurred words imprinted into the paper like the veins of a leaf. Only when I held the paper close to my face and squinted did I realise what it said.

Power.
Hope.
Curiosity.

The epiphany collided violently against my mind and soul. I knew exactly who had rushed to my rescue all those years ago. I knew exactly who had revived my evanescent heart. It was me.

Only I contained the immense strength that was desperately needed. Only I could wipe away the tears and only I could slap myself in the face and put my life back on track. It was tough and at times excruciatingly soul-destroying but I did it. And I couldn’t be more thrilled for the promising future.

In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.’ – Albert Camus

No comments:

Post a Comment