She had always thought herself to be something.

She had always thought herself to be something. Somewhere far from now, far from her future. Never in the midst of failure.

So she’d push her mind,

thrive for a light.

And as dim as it may be,

She’ll continue to deprive herself of such belief. In hopes that it’ll grow.

They’ve tried to lay a desirable path for her.

They’ve tried to lay a desirable path for her. Lead her out of the dark and into great “holy” light.

Yet not a soul had a drop of hesitation as they left her.

She’d walk for hours on this crooked path,

She’d walk for hours on this crooked path. But she’d always find herself standing in front of the place she had left.

For what, she’d thought?

Standing there, like an autumn tree torn from its branches.

Standing there, like an autumn tree torn from its branches. While her mind sat and pondered for days which soon turned into months.

Then one chilly day arrived.

The trees had been coated with layers of fudge like snow.

The trees had been coated with layers of fudge like snow. The greens have disappeared from the sun's watch.

Moments of silence soon ended.

Her eyelids flashed once,

Her eyelids flashed once, and salt rain became iced as soon as it touched the snow.

Stiff as a log, to a soft lifeless stick. She created trials of footsteps leading out from that forgotten path. Which had already vanished, thanks to the lovely white layers of fallen snow.

Dirt covered steps formed all the way back to her lonely world.

Where she lays there with just that dim light on her palms.

Her face covered in streams as she glanced at the light full streaks of amber.

My eyes widened.

My eyes widened. Never have I ever seen such a ray of beaming light.

My eyes widened. Never have I ever seen such a ray of beaming light. How lovely the colors of honey were as they danced from her hands alone.

...

She had always thought herself to be something. Somewhere far from now, far from her future. Never in the midst of failure, but in the lights of hope.