THE WHIRLWIND SHE ROSE INTO

 

All of humanity desires the harsh wrath of an iron-hearted woman until they acknowledge the primal rage of her power. And she is not normal, she is your worst nightmare, a hurricane, a brushfire, a storm as destructive as a thousand suns shining forever. The point is, no other worldly god can break her and no storm can take that spirit away from her. She has been broken before, and she put herself back together on her own stronger, wiser and truly unbreakable. It was all fun and games for the world until all that strength reflected back at them in mirror reflection. They admire her resilience but startle when they catch on that she is not there for them to control or soften or make easy enough to swallow for their comfort. Her love is not something that can be earned, it is an untouchable thing that you can neither seduce, nor buy, nor touch. She does not try to scare, but her aura just emanates a fearless strength that demands respect. She remembers her days of fragility, when she cried for mercy, when she longed for a hero who never appeared. And now she will not let those days ever return.” Never have all the links in the chain of weakness were blown apart, the bridges to dependency turned into ashes, the ghosts of her past that we buried. She no longer waits for salvation, no longer seeks salvation in the form of some knight on a white horse on the horizon. She has become the warrior she once prayed for, the savior she once searched for.” She has been rising undefeated, untouchable, in her own fire. She always dreamt of a hero, another soul but no it was always her.