Like the ground beneath her feet, she holds everything to her and has a certain pull. She is sturdy, unafraid, and solid in her resolves. When she walks, her feet fall with purpose, and her eyes reflect the brown of the earth, encompassing everything else around her.
She is fierce, and she immolates herself with the love that burns bright and deep inside her. But don’t you dare cross her the wrong way, because she’s a volcano waiting to erupt, and no being has the power to escape the embers of her fire.
She flows, soundless but dedicated, towards her purpose. She accommodates everything and everyone and always gives, gives, and gives. The tears that flow from her eyes tell the stories of scars left not on her skin, but much deeper, on the riverbed of her soul.
She flies with the reckless abandon of a howling breeze, like a red autumn leaf having no sense of destination. She is free in her element, unchained by the sands of time, always heading forward, gliding in the winds of change.
Her eyes. They reflect the endless expanses of the sky and the celestial bodies it holds. You could behold the sky full of stars in her beautiful orbs which give you a peek into her soul, laid barren and unmasked. She is endless. She is immune.