A warrior

She closes her eyes. Her heart beats, sweet in her soul, her hands cold, snow in the depths of her chest while her ankles move against the pressure of those chains. Everything seems cloudy, there are cries in the battlefield, the slaves want to run, and the explosions roar around while she sings to herself a pretty song.

Then she falls, dirt on her face, tears of silver in her eyes, there couldn’t be a worse time. While they laugh and pretend that everything is alright: some with distant smiles, some with fake happy-go-lucky masks. Nevertheless she stands, the shackles of her past around her ankles, and she walks while grabbing the sword (the pursuit of never giving up).

And she realizes…A warrior is not someone who never cries, who smiles all the time, who never complains, who never rests, who pretends. A warrior is someone like her, ever so human, ever so weak, ever so fragile; like a distant memory full of scars, like a moth in the dark that finds her way under the dim light of the stars.

A warrior is not someone who never worries, who never overthinks, who never falls victim to those voices in maybe scenarios that make her knees tremble, her back bend, and that bring the worst of the past and the uncertainty of the future reflect in mirrors of traumas of many, oh so many battles under the orange light of dawn. Yet, she stands, with the wind in her face, with hail falling like stones, with a constant inner voice that whispers so softly and so firmly the words of hunger for a better day again; and so she fails, her hands fearful, with fear that feels insane in the shame for not walking, but with pride when she finally moves ahead.

Oh little one, I know that you are warrior, because a warrior endures, never gives up, stands up over and over in the battlefields of life. A warrior grabs her sword, with calluses from long fights before, and walks to the front of the storm. But a warrior also needs time to cry, moments to rest, a helping hand, a hug when the ghosts of past traumas bring her down; after all, a warrior is a kind person who cries, complains, but never succumbs to the weight of these emotions, and who learns to lean from time to time when a whisper of rain falls from the sky signals that is time for she to rest.