I’ve never seen such grey in her eyes before.
Where did the sun go? That spark that I so deeply admired?
Who is it, what was it, that made her go dark?
Where did her bright colors go? Why are they fading?
Maybe she's a wildflower.
She blooms the brightest of them all.
In a field full of death, she stood tall and colorful.
You may see rain, but she saw opportunity for growth.
In the midst of a storm, she danced.
She was blooming and growing in places she never thought possible; always stretching up toward the sun.
The sky was always blue. That spark in her eyes always there.
She called for adventure.
For life to take a chance.
Her soul was flying free- always ready to spread her wings and take off.
Would she fail?
But failure is a greater teacher than success.
And she would learn from it.
She’s been through too much in her life not to.
That’s who she was.
But because of her brokenness, the Light shone through so much brighter.
Some people are afraid to fly- she was afraid of not trying.
New things? Seemingly impossible challenges?
She was up for anything.
This is not how she always was.
But within her, the Son was shining bright on who she was created to be.
She followed His example.
She loved so recklessly that people weren’t sure what to think of it.
Who was this girl? Who loved without limits? Who forgave and forgot?
Never afraid of coloring outside the lines.
She tried to make the most of every opportunity.
She ran through fields, climbed to mountain tops, and howled with wolves.
The Spirit within her was free.
She had found who she was.
The storm clouds rolled in.
And for once, she couldn’t dance through it.
Why must they try to change her?
What was wrong with her independent, care-free, and loving nature?
Were her colors to bold?
The light too bright?
Unable to fly.
They tried to clip her wings.
She couldn’t stop them.
Her colors faded.
They quieted her loud spirit.
They caged her free soul.
They drained her of her colors.
Her light was dimmed.
Unhappiness seeped through.
Her smile was gone.
That spark in her eyes? Diminished.
Where did she go? That person she had become?
The person she loved?
In the dark.
Swallowed by the noise.
She doesn’t see the world the same.
Greys, blacks, whites.
The colors are gone.
This wildflower has stopped blooming.
The storm won’t go away.
She won’t ever be the same.