Buriedharts

Some worlds away…

The Lady In Blue creaked slowly on her feet, with a lot of knee cracking sounds. She had a distant troubled expression in her eyes. A flash of- was it disgust, fear of what she’d become? A smell seemed to float heavily in the layered dusky gloom, a scent of horrible breath and decay, of irrational impatience and anger, of small mindedness and hard, selfishness, her hidden hypocritical stone-like heart. Black iron ore, ugly, shrunken, unused. That about described the tiny little beating thing in her chest. Hypocritical and stone-like because she hid the nastiness of her soul under layers of “Hey, dear how are you”’s and “Let me help you”’s, and helping, acts of kindness, that never really reached, or lit up, her soul. That stayed just at the surface and wrecked havoc, like acts of evil, terrible evil, because it was dishonest and low and cheap. At least the council ladies were nasty because they really were nasty underneath. That was honest in a way. She was kind and nice, always, while being horribly nasty underneath it all.

Tears sprang to her eyes. A feeling of horrible hopelessness burst open and meandered like a dark red river that flowed in every direction. How many years had gone by since Then? How many days more did she need to pass, did she need to Cry? Go, till she’d have light again? Nay, till she’d have a heart again? Tiny little crystals slowly coalesced, from her eyes, from her tear ducts, into numbers, into dreams, into clouds, into rivulets, that spooled down slowly, reaching, reaching through her world, deeper, and into the darker places, casting strange darting coloured lights. They were looking for something, precious and insignificant. They missed it. They always did. They came so close, though.They always did. Maybe a few inches further in the mire, in the gormed mucky stink that filled her soul. A little time longer. But they fell short, and they flew off, ringing, laughing, little coloured flashing lights, off to other worlds, where light was more abundant, and hearts still did good. They always did fall short. They ALWAYS did.

And in the horrible darkness her heart remained, precious and insignificant. It burned black fire.Far, far away. Eons away.

A horrible sorrow racked her body, over and over, shaking it so much, until she could not stand it. Yet it went on and on. On. O. Oh. Oh when, when…?

Just keep the – this – yes,This-Silence. Forever. And maybe one day the burning will stop. They will come. Maybe the black fires will burn out, and maybe, just maybe, a bit of it will have survived the scorching night. And they will come home. Maybe.

And her heart was cracking, over and over agog.

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About theshadowsofthenight

An amateur writer and amateur artist :)
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2 Responses to Buriedharts

  1. Ayesha says:

    that was beautiful, yet terribly sad… I hope her heart will one day be whole again…

  2. You got it, which is great! i was worried it was too bloppily metaphorically symbollically something. i always take liberties with the english language. what do you think?
    Its okay, The Lady in Blue will be okay, later on. Maybe cuz of something about a little kid who befriends her 🙂

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