"Her" drabbles by VerityAlways

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Ashes not Dust

Her

I fought, even if I was weak.
The knives slashed, ripped me apart, drenched in blood and pain.
I tried to stand, to walk, but couldn't.
It was smoke. I could feel the heat.

I turned, and the fire approached me.
Like I was draped by flames, a dress to dread.

I would turn into ashes.
With a clasp on my breath, I clenched hope.
To spread my wings again and rise from the inferno like a Phoenix.

I could see lights and hear sirens, their shouts. They were near.

I woke up with a new face, a new name.

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A forlorn hope...

Her

A few months ago
The breaking news showed the tribulation of the attacks. Nothing untouched. None spared. The torture mirrored in each of their eyes.
There among the victims, I saw the face. It could be her.

My quest never ended.

Last night, at a soirée
A silhouette of a woman. Visible semblance. Maybe, it was her.

The same pout, smirk, scowl and frown. All alike.
A tear rolled down my cheek and onto the photo of her smiling face.

Where are you? My other wing, my twin.

Clutching at my last hope, the address and number to her door

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The Song

Her

The Spawn of Satan, played his anthem,
He chooses his victims, not the random,
He hymns a lullaby, to spew the venom,
And when conjured, he slays them.

One, two, three, four
He soared to roar, greedy for more.
Five, six, seven
He commissioned the procession.

Then,
He found me as a goat,
Took me to his boat,
He amplified the horror with every note,
And none bailed to vote,
Then I gathered a garotte.

He turned to me, to complete an octave,
When he worshipped his lords,
I pulled his chords,
To end his song.
Because he was wrong.

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The Search

Her

The search for your memories never ended.

I saw the nature, the winds caressing my hair, the warmth of dawn, the chirping of birds, the dew.
I felt you, as if I immersed in your lap.

I tried to find my rhythm, with every wrinkle of yours; ingraining you, your words and thoughts.

Yearning for the warmth and love those eyes once bore, the voice which cradled my name, the hands that taught me, legs that were pillars of strength.
The heart, my twin soul.

Can I have one last chance? For I love you till the end of time.

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Retaliation

Her

I gushed the rest of the amber liquid, recoiled in memories of that night.

The room was dimly lit and a colossal damage, blood smeared across the furniture and walls, the shards of vase besides.

The silence was deafening.

Nonetheless, it was a calculated move, by one.

The one, who ended it all, when he thrived in fear, of all the innocent souls captured and tortured.

For the devil he was, who baptized his name as fear. Fear which was
engraved in veins, mind and soul.

The one, who mocked us, triumphed in justice for the lost souls. Their Kin.

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Her...

Her

I would never forget her, the one who saved my life every time, giving me a new lease of life…
She wouldn’t linger, just one glance and would dissipate.

Even if, I could thread a needle with a bullet, an astute observer and finest skills.
If not for her, I wouldn’t have detected, defeated the criminals and escaped those explosions.

Then…
I saw her again ….

But the eyes didn’t scream danger, she didn’t vanish, I could smell her scent, feel her warmth, touch her…
She called me and we walked together, for I was with her again for eternity.

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Whisper of Smoke

Her

She taught, played, cared, fed us, she was our friend, who also walked our pace. She was the best in all, a mentor, confidant, the bravest and the world’s best …

It was tough, seeing her in state of desolation. We knew, we would be apart; we knew, the inevitable would happen.

As the days passed, she willed to get better. The day she healed, we all lost her.

I still ought to remain in the reminiscence of her smile, laugh, her words, the touch and the hug- which I faintly memorized; before it was just a ‘Whisper of Smoke’.