Poetry

Maya

earth

Mounds of silt felt like silk on her ever smooth skin, which was glowing like pearls in paradise. She stood at the foot of the stone carved high-rise. What would she find inside? Waiting with abated breath as her head began to swim in the deep ocean of despair. All Maya could think of was, “Would it be too late?”. No other question. None. She was at a loss. Blank.

Courage swooped in hot and heavy flooding her nerves and urging her to go in, to take a step.

The orb was glowing with an eery blue light as if a million sapphires were encrusted within. Yet, this light was softer and more subtle, but far more powerful. Within the orb floated a woman whose skin was tinged with a faint green hue. The color of a new shoot sprouting out of the earth. Her hair was made of wisps of air, crystalline and pure, creating ripples about her face. Eyes closed, breathing labored and shriveled was her form. The torture that the humans had subjected her to was cruel. She was an innocent who had fallen privy to the ill intentions of a  race fueled by greed.

Maya stepped forward and immediately The Healers followed suit, coming out of the shadows in which they had been working to keep the woman alive. Startled and anxious they were, a bunch of old men with ashy skin and clear eyes that saw through every speck of flesh to the disease within. They reminded her of Chronos.

Maya had returned without the cure.

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