Dum spiro, spero

A woman of age, forced to be a lone wolf. She is clouded in darkness of pain, induced by loss, heartbreak or perhaps both.

With a limp on her step and a little drizzle of blood from her wounds, she goes hunting, lest she be forced into asylum. Unbeknown to her, shadows lurk above and around her as she hunts. Danger, a peculiar threat draws ever close to her. It whistles as it approaches, like the winds blowing through the tall grass of the savannah woodland. The wind so soothing to her sunburnt face as it blows the furs on her face; the sound comforts her broken heart. The breeze and sound touch her; they leave a little bitterness on her soul like a sugar-coated tablet. Hawks! They sneak above her with a view of her situation. In an instant, they pounce and sweep her off into the sky. Relieved from the pain that caused the limp in her step, she holds on and enjoys riding the winds through the clouds. But then, her relief fades away quickly, as she is forced to surrender to a greater force that pulls her right back to the ground.

Yes, everyone but her, saw the hawk approach. They watched as the hawks circled above her and eventually take flight and yet none made a sound loud enough to alert her. But upon her descent, they whispered amongst themselves as they comforted her: “we knew it! We heard him plan”, they say.

She hears the whispers. Unable to speak out, her heart aches from the pain of loss, and the pain of disappointment! Who can I run to? Who will comfort me? Can I really be comforted? Am I to grieve alone? Who are these that surround me? Who are they that mourn with me? Hyenas! Yes, they sneak on the weak and pounce on them at their lowest moment!