It was through the window where she sees everything. The darkness of the darkened conjured the fellow angels to take hold of her. As she struggles through the flowing waters, she choked the wishes from her scattered wings. As her beauty mellowed in the musical notations, she grasped for something to make her whole. Her reflection continues to glow amidst the life that departed her.

“It was a wish,” she whispered, “a hope I can never let go of.”

Though how much she fights for the depth that was taken from her, she was still stranded behind the mischievous smiles of demons lurking in her veins. The flowing of the over flown kept on drowning her spirit, trapping her from the light that was hers.

“Was it enough to see?” she asked again

The mist covered the whole of her, blinding the world from seeing her, now she was standing in reclusion trying to survive inside the walls built around her by the people that surround her. She was there, though, no one sees her. Thinking that she was already gone a long time ago, they never try to find her.

“Help!” she screamed

It was bound to happen all along, they thought, everything has fallen from her. As she tried to spread her arms, they tied it and took her from her very strength. Though she tried to shake the world, the world just kept on holding firm and fighting her.

“The wind has blown from me,” she continued screaming, “I was never gone nor departed!”

No one understood her. Thinking that she is just another fallen angel, they left her alone and misunderstood. Thinking that it is not her right to live, to hope, to wish, they closed everything from her.

 She fought, I saw her, and though her wings were never opened I know she knew it was there all along. I keep her memoirs in me and the laconic voices that kept her free. I scream for her, I cry for her. And as my tears fall while I write her chronicled life, I understand. She was never gone, and until now, her very spirit lingers the world of the haunting and the haunted. Through the continuous flowing of her suffering the world still sees, yet they act as if she was never there, though every night they cry, they pray, they hope and wish on her scattered wings for everything to end.