i swore that i'd never let you back in
She is familiar with the way fear is.
It grows like a weed within you. Fear is relentless, thrashing and crashing to find its hold within the soil of your soul and mind. It searches endless through your being, looking through the faded memories and emotions that are locked away in the darkness, finding anything to bring you down and into something horrific and disturbing. But she is not touched by fear, no matter how many times the wicked world has tried to get her, she will never be touched.
Her imagination is too strong to be filled with the shadows and corrupting words that fear puts in your thoughts. Her heart is too big for the good of all things that exist in this world and beyond—she is always finding the hint of a good even in the worst of others and events. Always searching for ways to make things better.
It is her inner flame and passion that drives her forward. She looks towards her own inner heart, not seeking rewards or punishments, but rather ways to make it all better. It is her own code of morality and virtue she hangs onto, blossoming from a world that does not exist truly. Above it all, she is a dreamer.
She dreams of a world in color and magic. There is only peace and beautiful things to see. It is her haven, her place to go. When the world is cruel to her she flees to there. There is never a time she stays too long here in the world of reality. Eventually, she will be gone from here when the world comes crashing around her again.
But, for now, it does not.
Abelia listens to Falk with both ears forward. She is keenly aware of the changes that he speaks about too. Beqanna was nothing like it had been before—curious and intrigued by the events, she must find out why. But, Falk, this stranger, seems to be in the same predicament as well like her.
“You aren’t the only one feeling crazy,” she laughs, admitting her own feelings of craziness as well, “It isn’t the same here. Something is really different.” Abelia had felt it in her bones the second she came down from the mountain, a part of her soul was taken away—a piece she might not get back.
Her smile fades a little, but still holds softly against her thinned lips of white and gold champagne colors. “I lost part of me when I came down that Mountain,” her attention drifts away from the stallion towards the Mountain, “Maybe time is playing a trick on all of us.” It sounds strange because she never had to worry about time. “I never had to worry about time before but it seems like I might have to now,” she adds with soft laugh.
It grows like a weed within you. Fear is relentless, thrashing and crashing to find its hold within the soil of your soul and mind. It searches endless through your being, looking through the faded memories and emotions that are locked away in the darkness, finding anything to bring you down and into something horrific and disturbing. But she is not touched by fear, no matter how many times the wicked world has tried to get her, she will never be touched.
Her imagination is too strong to be filled with the shadows and corrupting words that fear puts in your thoughts. Her heart is too big for the good of all things that exist in this world and beyond—she is always finding the hint of a good even in the worst of others and events. Always searching for ways to make things better.
It is her inner flame and passion that drives her forward. She looks towards her own inner heart, not seeking rewards or punishments, but rather ways to make it all better. It is her own code of morality and virtue she hangs onto, blossoming from a world that does not exist truly. Above it all, she is a dreamer.
She dreams of a world in color and magic. There is only peace and beautiful things to see. It is her haven, her place to go. When the world is cruel to her she flees to there. There is never a time she stays too long here in the world of reality. Eventually, she will be gone from here when the world comes crashing around her again.
But, for now, it does not.
Abelia listens to Falk with both ears forward. She is keenly aware of the changes that he speaks about too. Beqanna was nothing like it had been before—curious and intrigued by the events, she must find out why. But, Falk, this stranger, seems to be in the same predicament as well like her.
“You aren’t the only one feeling crazy,” she laughs, admitting her own feelings of craziness as well, “It isn’t the same here. Something is really different.” Abelia had felt it in her bones the second she came down from the mountain, a part of her soul was taken away—a piece she might not get back.
Her smile fades a little, but still holds softly against her thinned lips of white and gold champagne colors. “I lost part of me when I came down that Mountain,” her attention drifts away from the stallion towards the Mountain, “Maybe time is playing a trick on all of us.” It sounds strange because she never had to worry about time. “I never had to worry about time before but it seems like I might have to now,” she adds with soft laugh.
