Mortal her’s, immortal pain

Being strong is the most painful quality, and unfortunately she mastered the art.
                Dreamer! That was she when young, with wild imagination, infectious enthusiasm, envious sexy. A divine soul that sprinkle kindness everywhere, an adventurer in her own way and zealous as crazy. An earth-born whose warmth for all was impartial.  She enjoyed the significance of all shades of life, a drama queen with toxic passion for colors. Be it bright or dull, dark or light, pastel or neon she adored them all. She would dress up like a girl next door with ripped shorts, zipper and flip-flops or Wear high heels and drape herself with silken gowns like a lady, at times when the women in her took over she would adorn salwar kameez, a perfect sized bindi and bright bangles to complete the look.  A girly girl who had an ear for music and feet that did not need a pair of dancing shoes to sway in rhythm.

            While enjoying her fancy, she forgot one important thumb rule of universe “nothing is constant” And then came a time like an epidemic with cancerous impact, fading all signs of recovery. The downfall was so deep that the mere existence of light felt like an element from mythology. Her little, innocent heart was devastated at how every thing; every being surrounding it became victim of that cruel law and left her alone. Her own knight in shining armor, who never revealed her blues to anyone, was breathing completely opposite of her aspiration from the last half a decade. Her heart was numb, feeling statue, mind constantly fighting with burgeoning thoughts and a pair of eyes which had forgotten its ability to occasionally moist. The dreamer had turned into a dreadful loner. It felt eternity since happiness was her guest. Despite the miseries, every morning she woke up with hope. Hope that she would manage all hardships, no matter what she would never let her family down, promised herself the impossible, to steal some time from this inhuman world to satiate her sinless desires.
               But she was a girl, grown into a thoughtful woman who valued relations, who would barter her dearest possession for a smile or well being of her bloodline.  Years passed and the trend continued. No one bothered how much it pinched her tender heart which began to hate. Endless brawling and brushing between her and her namesake own was piercing beyond her mind. Suicide was the only option, as to see her anguish they were too blind. Battling under the wings of suffocation she hoped to see the handful own by her side. But even the agony of their begotten atom did not sweat those cruel eyed.
With a burning aura on her face and a flirtatious one sided smile that concave her right dimple, she warned the sacred liquid, “Dare roll down my cheeks”.  

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