Her thoughts danced like an interpretation of anguish,
salt-water emerging from the corners of her eyes.
Departing from the calm of the open flame,
she soaked in her demise.

Abating breath, bracing for a new sense of normalcy,
she sensed her flesh yearning to bring destruction.
As each second of borrowed time passed,
she focused on the prophecy.

Impending fate toys with destiny,
as the fire in her eyes glimmers.
Warranting her sense of hope,
letting the boiling *** of liquid simmer.

She clings to the tightrope of her souls awareness,
knowing that the slightest falter could cause her descent.
What lies on the other end of this horizontal tread?
Ah, but the ladder to keep climbing, recognizing the ascent.

How long it has been since she reached for a new rung?
She has traveled faithfully on the chosen path,
accepting each task with obedience,
Alas, there is a new song to be sung.