The Walker

Abused and brusied but not broken
Dead and cold, but still alive
She traveled carelessly
Through the dangerous recesses
Of her mind
Impervious to mere mortal danger
Focused instead
On inner turmoil

 

Looking
Searching
Questing

 

For what, unknown

 

Decked in the minute trappings
Grand in it's gaudiness
Each ribbon, each lace
Representing a piece of her soul
All fragilty themselves

 

Eyes upraised
Focused on higher plateaus
The place she longed to be
The place she yearned for
The place she could not reach

 

Shattered she walked on