Scarlet

Through the glossy crystal stands a figure,
Sturdy, head tilted, filled with zeal and vigor,
Face not scarred, knees never skinned before,
Its liquid eyes brimming with the uncertainty of the identity it once bore.

Innocent lips and wide gaze scanned the world with awe,
Like a blooming crimson petal, best anyone ever saw,
Flashed a charming smile irrespective of friends or foes,
Unaware of betrayal, sarcastic laughs, puns or woes.

To resent living was par with not loving what you are
It hurt enough when she lost the way back to herself
Attempts to deny wrong, weakness would engulf,
Speeches of bravery lead to throat lumps, cold wars.

War heroes watched the battlefield fill scarlet,
But she had secret scars caressed with tears wet,
When they walked out into dangers for the county,
She lunged out from her cocoon to be wild and free.

With winds of seasons and tides of the crescent moon,
She has grown immaculate, almost from a boon
The boon of reality goddess of destiny upon her granted,
Because of which she viewed the world undaunted.

Fingertips run over her skin in search of those scars,
While she laughed amongst her true allies,
Basking in delight of the time earned souls and besides,
Her fraility cascaded those high bars.

A single wraith withered rose, cheated, raided yet experienced larger
When She, I look into a mirror I see a solider.