by Anonymous

Here I am, stuck on the very first page.
Not able to move, and not able to see.
I feel the hurricane coming at me.
And I soak in her essence from the storm.

Dark hair and the perfume of her books.
White in black and black in white.
An unseen world behind her eyes.
And hiding, she does it so well.

She lives like the sun, the star, the moon,
The day, the night and the everlasting noon,
The past, the present and the unknown future
Are all hers and she all theirs.

In her smile she drenches her sorrow.
With words she quenches thirst.
She falls apart but stands up straight.
The mighty devil bows.

Her sun shines so bright,
For the world which is blinded by the night.
And I, in these pages, search
For the soul I lost in my flight.

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