May 26, 2004

• A woman makes a trek that is a thousand years long, yet she would have it no other way.  Her hands are blackened and scarred from all the battles she's fought, and won.  The warrior woman carries the weight of the world on her shoulders, and still picks up more with her hands, and never a compaint passes through her lips.  She is stronger than even she knows.  Always ready, always strong, never pausing to take an easier route if it is available.  Never slowing down or tiring, her soul is made of stamina.  Yet, once she has found shelter after the sun has found his, once the battles of the day have ended, once the trek is over, she finds herself tired, drained...weak.  For the only burden that she cannot bear is that of solitude and silence.

  • 6:47 am
  • 2 Comments