Fervency

And I watched. I watched, mesmerized, as she writhed across the gray plains of the sky. Her movements were sharp, yet graceful and welcoming. She was the most elegant force I’d ever been granted the pleasure of witnessing, torching the eyes of bystanders with her beauty. The long, flowing train of her dress encapsulated the attention of millions as she danced over the globe. She pranced through the woods, her footsteps leaving her mark on the world. Her leap from the earth was so perfectly executed that some would swear she had flown into the trees, but her method of getting there was long forgotten after she began climbing. She swung around the trees, wrapping her delicate hands around the branches as she reached higher. She finally found herself at the peak of the world and sprung up from the treetops in hopes of brushing the sun. But the sun would never get the chance to reward her efforts, as humans have never accepted the truth of beauty. The envy building within the people rained down on her, drenching her marvelous dress. She never liked the water; it made her shiver in a way the sun cannot heal. She flinched as the world’s anger suffocated her, bringing her to the ground. She pleaded with the people to let her dance once more, but jealousy is a flame that cannot be blown out. Her dress was reduced to less than tatters, the charred trees being the only proof of her performance. And I watched. I watched as she was wilted into a shadow of the dancer that she once was.