Library
The Depths Of A Village Girl
The Depths Of A Village Girl
She pours her soul onto the paper
Ink carelessly splattered all over the parchment
Tales of princesses saving themselves
Legends of the dragons of old
Stories of the mighty unpredictable nature
All erupted from the tip of her pen
The night bleeds into day
She writes on
She writes of her mother strumming a harp
She writes of her siblings playing in the gardens
The day bleeds into night
She writes on
She writes of magic seeping through the forest
She writes of witches and warlocks
Days blend together
Her hand cramps but she keeps writing
Refilling her pen with ink over and over again
Capturing the intricacies of her soul
The bright and cheerful parts
Birds chirping in the early daylight
The river rushing over rocks
Children shrieking with joy
Spices wafting in the market square
The dark and desolate parts
Rough hands reaching for her
Learning to fight
Tracking game in the cold winters
Cold eyes glaring between cracks
She doesn’t make sense anymore
Souls don’t make sense
Souls are light and dark
Colorful and colorless
Overlapping layers building over each other
Fantasy and reality
If souls made sense
Then the world would be a terribly boring place
