For her, life was launched in difficulty, lived among the darkness and lack of love, saved through painful sacrifices and many rejections, and ended in a murder by her loneliness witnessed by the same darkness that witnessed her arrival.
Sad it may sound, but an artist in her emerged. And before the sun set completely, among her confusion, anger, and great emptiness in her heart, she created some masterpieces. Paintings that told tales of life she herself misunderstood but felt true all the same, disguised in religious symbols, saints that possessed golden hearts but never came to rescue her or embrace her.
Before the sun set completely, she threw colors upon colors until everything went dark and she thought she had had enough. And that was it. Didn’t even bother to finish her last painting. When nothing matters anymore, nothing makes you stay longer.
Perhaps, her life could have turned out differently had she pushed further in her search. Instead of stopping at a temporary, misleading conclusion, she should have walked further into not only a transformation of life but of self. For out there without shackles of fear and anger, she would have felt the warmth of the light, and love. ■lucembearer■
The darkness that once welcomed her into the world had become her only companion. And accompanied by the darkness only, she put down her paint-dripping brush, left unfinished what could have been another great mournful piece.
If only she had known that it was a being of light who once caught her falling… But she would have never known. It had been too dark, too dark, for her to see. And the loneliness sounded just too loud on her ears.
Loneliness, leave her alone! But it wouldn’t.
Accompanied by her faithful darkness, carrying her frozen heart that stopped waiting to be thawed, she let the loneliness take her life.