• psychosammyr 10w

    There She was - standing, waiting and watching the world even after the world never recognized her.
    She was unknown to the world, and the ones who saw her were chosen by her to see her. She doesn't show herself to everyone. A shy apparition in her early twenties with slim and oblong face with sharp countenance, long midnight black hair flowing around her and shaping her delicate features, tall neck and she wears a long and flowing white cloth, possibly a sari that shimmered in the light.
    She angled herself on the left side, her back resting on the wall, yet not touching the moss covered wall at all. She gazed into the distance from the second floor of the ruined building. Her gaze was indifferent, yet her sadness was showing in her almond shaped eyes, dark with lashes long, reaching to the pale cheeks.
    When her eye contacts with another, she gives a dead look - nothing scary but as if she was seeing but not seeing at all for she waits for something else; maybe someone else.
    But something in her postures beckons to her. She wants a few to stand where she does and see what she witnesses. The time has lapsed and the skies have changed, but she was still captured in the time where she existed in flesh and blood.
    Some fortunate ones are willed to find her place and stand there, at that ruins where she stands and watches everything.
    She lives in the hall that is possibly the biggest of all the remaining ruins there; every intricate remains belonged to her. Every broken stairs lead a step towards her favorite resting place, where she waits. She dwells in the hollow and empty rooms, tentatively step through the hidden spiral stairs, shows a few to see what she sees and where she lives, now all alone.
    If one is asked, they see nothing. But why do you think she shows herself to a few? She shows because she is lonely; she shows that there is no end to waiting for something worth waiting for. Even after the flesh turned to mud or ashes, even after the sands of time has been blown away along with the wind that lets her white sari and thick, long and straight hair flow from left to right, she never left.
    Some souls never leave their purpose even after death. That is why she is there, captured in the weaved circles of time.
    #151119 #she #waits #ruins
    #collectedpicture
    You will find some past and present tenses mixed-up, but I can't change the err, as it seems fitting to me.

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