Writer's Cramp entry. A post-apocalyptic narrative poem.
|The snow falls upon her head like a halo of white.
She looks up to the sky and wonders at the eternal night.
It had been years since she'd seen natural light,
But things in the dark still bring terror and fright.
She carries torch in one hand and blade in the other,
But nightmares still walk along one after another.
She breathes deep, as she was taught by her mother,
Eager to be done before snow begins to smother.
Her hunt begins, like something once from a dream,
But in this new world things are not as they seem.
As in her childhood, she follows the stream,
But today she hunts not rabbits, but the chance to redeem.
She has lived this nightmare for the last fifteen years,
Under a darkened sky of the volcano's tears.
Where once she lived with her family in the frontiers,
Now she lives hunting nightstalkers, her living fears.
Father and brother died from the initial eruption,
Mother gone from the creatures corruptions.
She lives on her own, without interruption,
Except for the creatures' violent proruptions.
Her girlish dreams have been gone so long,
And living alone always feels so wrong.
But she has no choice but to face villains and be strong,
While in her heart, she sings her mother's song.