She looked

She looked until her eyes went black, a cloud of solitude wrapped itself tight / Feeling yet unknowing that a path might show a route out, a caveat.

A physical darkness shook her, incessant / It had come before but never like this / Plunging deep and unrelenting until her head hung low.

Trying but tumbling at hurdles / This feeling was not her own / A mask, a fog, an obscurity at odds with the spirit that led before.

The mother’s arms that held her in her weakness / A child returned, not bounding and bouncing / But grown, and weak, and hurt,

The mother’s tears that mixed with her own / To heal, to close off the dark / Lifting her daughter with assurance and silence.

She barely saw when the cloud left / Yet she knew it had gone.

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