Aliyan Raza

The sudden desperation begins to coincide with her words--

Words spat out with unforeseen madness,
As she pleads them to submit to her, the submitter--

She, the appeaser.

"Are you listening to me? I, your assister?"

"Do my wishes, my beliefs, become transparent?"

Yet, the receivers refuse to rationalize their claims--

They wait for her submission,
regardless of her aspirations–

And rebuff her affections.

"Shall I continue this treacherous torture you bestow?Have you forgotten my offerings!"

Indeed, they have.

Bellows of ancient anger and sorrows spew from her lungs--
A saturated sponge that can not absorb the mockery any longer...
Finally spills.

But to her dismay, the leakage begins to journey to the small, vacant abyss inherited by the receivers.

And she is left to blame no one--
but herself.