Anne

A broken smile, thoughts leaking
on paper bound into a legacy. Yellowing
like her confinement, growing like the
spiral of her thoughts. Pure air outside,
sullied by the hatred, the prejudice, the unnatural
bursts of fire infusing the streets, seconds

away from her pounding heart. Hopes glistening
like a platinum ring, the yellow star
gleaming in the sky, a shard of pain. A star
embraced by thousands, contrasted with
the silver glow of those sprinkled at night, of
what is natural and beautiful.

The words that grow with her, the pages that
ripen as her eyes grow darker, as she watches
hopelessness imbue her life. As she watches
the world collapse around her, buildings
crumbling and the innocent falling. But through
the terror, her spirits never falter; praying

for the captured, hoping to see the good of
humanity bloom forth. Holding on to lost
memories, seeing a spark in an infinite expanse
of evil. Believing in compassion despite the
violence raging outside, inside, in her mind. Noticing
beauty, the beauty of trees, love, and the heavens,

when the rest of the world sees sin, villainy,
death. Trusting in the good of people, that was
shrouded by a cloak of fear, poised to improve
the world. And she did, through words burned into
pages and minds, letting us know that purity, hope,
love exist during the worst times ever

to plague humanity.