Chronicles of Czarelle

Once again, deep from her slumber, the maiden awakes. With all her might, she releases a heartbreaking cry, lamenting her true love that never was, that could never be. Unmindful of the awestricken stares all around her, she continues to mourn her love that was never given a chance.

With a vengeance, she unleashes her anger. She was not allowed to be happy, so why should the rest of the world be? Her heart was wrenched away from her, when all she wanted was to love. And now, she could no longer feel love. Bitterness is all that remains.

Slowly, people begin to feel fear. This is the ire of a woman who suffered a loss, suffered the injustice of the world. Her scorn is something to contend with. Onlookers begin to flee, to run for their lives, not able to take in the sorrow spewing forth from this beautiful maiden.

But even in sorrow, true to her name, Daragang Magayon remains beautiful. In passivity, she is grand. In turmoil, she is majestic. And from a distance, people can’t help but stare in wonder at this fusion of beauty and hate.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, August 15th, 2006 at 12:30 pm and is filed under Fiction. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.