Lady and the Wolf

The best way to describe her would be simple. One word contained the essence of her being, at least according to people around her - she was, first and foremost, old. Not her soul, no - it still burned as bright as a child’s. But the wrinkles on her forehead have been there for longer than most adults in the village were alive. Her daughters have married, bore children, grew old and died; and yet - she lived on, the village’s oldest and wisest.

But when a few people disappeared in the forest, and when she first heard rumours about a werewolf hunting on the nights of the full moon, she did the most unwise thing. She alone went into the forest, with nought but a hearty meal and a change of clothes in a bag swung over her shoulder. You see - one of the first people to disappear was one of her grand-grandsons, her very own ray of sunshine in the gloom of old age. And she was set on finding him, feeling deep in her heart that he is alive - that he must be alive.


One would call this insane, an old person finally losing touch with reality, and she was aware of that. But as the moon pulls the tide, her heart led her through the trees, showing her the hidden pathways only animals trod on. And she walked, one foot in front of the other, not looking further than a few steps forward.

magenta

forever split in two
one red, one blue
a thirst for adventure
and a thirst for peace
craving for routine and
lust for the unknown bliss
ripping me apart and
tearing me at seams


there's always something amiss


bringing them together
or further apart
- in the constant flux
everything's a new start
there's always a missing piece
always one more part
and whatever happens
i can't let it depart


everything's locked tight
in this little coffer
i call a heart, a home
for all that makes me suffer;
the scales never balanced
by a counteroffer
from the outside world, no,
i'm my own buffer


will i change once
i learn how to convey
my intentions to the world
outside of this fray?
i'm still learning how to talk
doodling on the walls with chalk
feeling only dismay


but i won't let it end here
because i'm not done yet
this is just the beginning, don't you fret
don't i fret


i'll be like air
everywhere
and nowhere at once
whatever happens, i'll bounce
right back, wiser than before
because i'll learn more
and more
and more...


and someday, when it all comes to a close
when it all slows
down
i'll wear a crown
dyed in pure magenta
the color i could never see
but i could feel
was real