My poetry/prose Thisbe

There are days when she felt the familiar monster rearing its heads, creeping into spectrum. She felt the flames of her roaring nerves springing like a fire breathing dragon into action. Incensed. Irate.Fiery. She thought she saw the horns appearing surreptitiously in a slow, deliberate way. Stealthily when she had not been looking,such that the moment a motive,a thought gave her ample reason,she fell subconsciously booby trapped. There was enough trigger to set ten volcanoes on fire.She felt the comprehension of a bull seeing red bursting into her furious veins with deep effect.

Rage.

Once someone chuckled flippantly into her face,labelling her a "carpet". "The better to step all over you" like a familiar catchphrase. Like "Finger Lickin' Good." She knew,her battles were ongoing. The conscience in her versus the dark lord Sauron that enslaved her delighted spirits. She was growing weary being genuine. No,actually she was growing lethargic wanting to be genuine. It was a challenge. Life was a challenge, it almost rang true of the nay sayers with their pessimistic adage  that life was never fair.

Thisbe. Her senses were jolted by the sudden thought of her name. Thisbe. An age old fable which had very obviously inspired Shakespeare in painting the portrayal of Romeo and Juliet. Pyramus and Thisbe, two star crossed lovers were similarly forbidden by their families to be together. Their valiant plans to elope were met with calamity when Thisbe almost fell prey to the claws of a lioness in the woods. As the tragic tale unfolds,so did the treacherous coincedence occur with Thisbe leaving her namesake,a pale coloured veil on the ground as she fled to escape the threatening approach of the beast. As such Pyramus too had to experience the unfortunate incidence of meeting the lion with its blood stricken mouth and his beloved's veil at that very instant. With such sorrow and deep pain, Pyramus decided to take to his sword. And so did the tragic Thisbe when she realises later the horror of the spectacle.

She had a particular fondness of the name. Maybe it was because there was a certain unique ring to it and maybe it was because she liked being different. Just like her adamant desire to promote truth and good faith in a world of faithlessness. Never mind if the nay sayers scoffed Never mind if noone cared nor believed. She would still thrive,on this silent agenda. But there were days when it got hopelessly arduous. Like now.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Then she touched her heart. A tiny wan smile began to form on her chapped lips. Her heart was pounding like an enthusiastic drummer, it went on continuously like a persistent meter. It pounded ceaselessly no matter what. Spring Summer,Winter, Fall. Pain,Sorrow,Bliss,Ectstacy. It never complained, it just kept the good faith and pounded. So would she.