Sequel: Burning

Drowning

caring

She drowned by caring.

Caring for the damned, the condemned, the fortunate, the miserable, the forgotten, the remembered and the cursed. Caring for the roses in the garden of Elysium, the tears in the eyes, the affliction in the soul, the gaze of contempt, and the flames of galore. She cared for the foul and wretched, the glorious and noble. She was fond for the unfortunate, blessing the ill with the purest of love. Utter forgiveness for the wretched and dismantled, the wrong and the accused. She cared.

But they didn’t.

The spite of words, the blasphemy of tongues, the searing of looks, the toxicity of thoughts; they caused her to drown. Swirling amidst the maelstrom of hatred from the uncontrolled, and the ungrateful. Drowning in fumes of hatred from the cataclysm of today’s humanity. Drowning in the gaze of the detached emotions, the apathy of the world, the fury of the masses – the unkindness of the individuals. A tide of acrimony and demise, forcing her to cower away from the light - the reason. And thus, she was forced to not care anymore. She was forced to drown. Because she couldn’t care anymore.

Even if she was drowning, drowning, drowning.