The Secret Weapon

She hoped for spring to last the year.

This fall haunted her soul with her dream,
to spread her wings up in the wind, crossing seas and boundaries.

Her heart raced; sweat kissed the ground.
In a single breath, it all shattered —
and she fell from the height.

A hand reached out to her trembling hands.
Her hands began to shiver as she slowly raised them.

The white bright light blurred her vision.
The big, cold hands held her hands tightly with love.
He closed the wound she had with care.
The man stitched her heart with threads of love.

His blue eyes wrapped her in safety.

He gave her the magic weapon and whispered in her ear.
She held it in her tiny little hands, closed, as she held butterflies.
And he left in a splash of light.

She was tired, exhausted, and depressed.
His words gave her fuel to try.
Her breath grew steady and strong.
She ran to the mountain where she fell 

and spread her wings with courage.

All she could hear were judgments and laughs around her.
She shut the doors of judgments.
She held the magic with love.
Her scars were healed; her wings became stronger than before.

Her mind ignited with passion, making her body alive with fire.
Her mind turned to the melodic voice she once heard,
stirring something deep inside.

She believed in the magic and started to fly.
Her wings had never felt so strong.
As she soared, the cold breeze caressed her wings, invigorating her spirit.

With a gentle smile, she revealed her secret:
The magic within her was the greatest weapon she’d ever known.