The phone chimed, jolting me awake.
I picked up and saw a glimpse of a bleak existence,
That belied my mortality at its stake.
Dripping through the crevices of my forfeited glee,
I beckoned the nooks of the blanket that enveloped me.

Through the conundrums of the desperation, I exasperated in the silence of thin air,
As the flashes of darkness in their atrocious brevity marched across my eyes,
In their tormentous flair.
Strolling through the memory lane, the wounds of the hammered wheelings echoed in triumph,
Glimpses of pleading for mercy, the darkness of their fury left my innocence in shattered crumbs.
Light in its beauty, radiance in its most healing demeanor that blazes through the blue,
Acrimonious syllables of amour often rend the underlying naivety that beckons to be true.
Death in its metamorphosis laid its icy hands on my piercing heart,
To be alive in the guise of merriment to be dead in the embrace of melancholy,
The duality of the existential realm tore my sense apart.
Chiming through the old timelines of who I used to be,
The phone displayed glimpses of the old me.

The one who I wondered to label as a fragile being of innocence who yearned to be free,
Only to strike in its most gallant notions, that I was a warrior who found herself in the depths of poetry,
To the little girl in me who survived the darkest storms and the atrocious nights,
I bow in gratitude to you, to fight with grit, to keep the flame of hope alive.
I hope you read this post, and light in its abundance shows,
May you triumph in all your battles,
even the ones that no one knows.

.    .    .