What made the Tree Roots laugh?

This courage may seem colored but it keeps on weighing on my chalice as heavy as a ball dragged by sinful ideations.

I couldn't tell, I couldn't know and I did not know. How will I convince myself? This revolving scenery with disability has concluded those aspirations. It has left me facing a brick wall, a wall comparable to a runners end. I want to pass, I couldn't even breath.

What is left of me? Tell me, I beg of you? Who are you?

I am trap in this rain as a damsel. Hoping to convince another to take part of this hole. Fill it up as I am willing to give it all. Save me, I am the novel damsel.

The monster at night when an angel at light. What does she do? An angel falling to a mass hole sliding through the pouring rain. She had nothing to hold on and nothing to aspire.  I still, I can and I will. But what do I do? Those tree branches are laughing, they laugh at me when I break the silence of courage.

Does ecstasy still prevail? Won’t you help me? Sir, Madam? Oh I cry out to those who hear and I plead to those at stake. We will prevail.

Mother and father, do not sulk because time will mend our intentions. Heal our wounds and lift our hearts. We will be in one distance, joy sparkling in our eyes. A sight of heaven in a dream.

I feel inevitably hopeless, I feel pained and pinned. Was I carrying a cross, is this what the wild has taught? I cannot drink from this water; I cannot see in this day, I have been empty, empty since the day I fell.

A little hive of secrets and I immediately ask for serenity, serenity to accept the things that I chose to step into the stings. I chose darkness and now I am inside a hole. No one to talk to, no one to play with and only a Kermit can prick.

I miss the times that I was made of chocolate, singing sweet melody’s to the lovely birds and was playful as a buzzing bee in sight of nectar. I chose the fall and I chose to learn. But it seems I could not go out, I could not hold on, on these tree roots. They push me to the depthless.

When my dress has dried, I wipe my eyes and see I was not holding on. Did I lose hope? Was there hope in these tree roots? Their acid ache me. They suck me inside. I sat and sulk, I sat and sulk…

I sat covering my body; I cried and cried till I had nothing to live for. I saw the courageous heart lying in the mud, purple and beating two times as fast as the cheetahs in the greens. I don’t want it no more; I bruised it every time it fought.

I echoed a shout “I don’t want it anymore!” but why can’t it stop beating? Stop fighting!

A failed ego and a bruised heart, is there more? Kill the demon. 

She slept in that hole for a thousand years more, hearing the laugh of the tree roots, the insults of the bullet ants and the slaps of a family forsaken.

Jousting defeat with the demon’s Triton. How long shall she die in life?