My name it means nothing, my fortune is less
My future is shrouded in dark wilderness
Sunshine is faraway, clouds linger on
Everything I possessed, now they are gone...
*Black Sabbath, Solitude
|...And from these darkened woods she comes, a ragged beauty
out of the shadows. Even in the twilight, she moves with a richness of grace that poverty
and abandonment cannot steal. She walks stiffly upright, as if she were a lost sword
incarnate and looks at you not for pity, but with the frank appraisal of a soldier. Can
you wield this sword, or will she cut you if you abandon caution?
See, even the moonlight is afraid to touch her, tasting her only at the fringes of her hair and living deeply in her eyes. Silver eyes follow you as her stance shifts, keeping her shadowed face toward you as you come closer. She does not retreat, nor move forward, but waits and watches, her thoughts her own. She knows you, as one drop of mercury knows and joins another, as shadows know that only light separates them.
As your steps take you to her, she does not smile, but her hand reaches out for yours. When you take it, her Solitude wraps around you in shared comprehension. Whether you choose to linger or escape makes no difference to her, but you must find the key and wield the weapon of your escape yourself. Until then, you are alone in shared respite to use as you wish.
© Sonja Torres 1999