Nomad Writer

Love is tainted by the impurity of selfishness.
-N.W

She was pampered in the glow of self-love and it seemed the earth cherished her too. The sun often greeted her with kisses on the cheeks and the wind lovingly stroked the brown tresses down her back. At nights, the moon cascaded her in its pearlescent hue by the window and the stars winked their adoration.

She protected her flame with soft songs from the petals of her lips as it shone in iridescent gleams. She glittered like an ethereal creature in the adoring eye of all and sparked a flame in one who had to have her. A man who crowded her flame with the shadow of his intentions. But his charm swayed her and she decided she could burn bright for them both. Until it wasn’t enough.

Until he poked ruthlessly at the dying embers, craving her tender warmth to soothe the cavernous pit where a heart should have been. Even as smoke curled up within her, she gave all she had left to him because she had seen a fire in his eyes. She thought she had.

In the end, when there was nothing left to give and she became as dark as he was, he left her. And she groped frantically in that haunting blackness; unsure she would ever find her flame again.