The Lady on the Moor

The Lady on the Moor appears at first glance to be of no consequence. She goes about her daily routine as any other. But she harbours a huge secret only but a few will know. One that sets her apart from everyone else … one that leaves her feeling worthless and less of a person than anyone else. Her heart beating strong and so full of life, her eyes so bright and sparkly, her voice so calm and reassuring, her demeanour so serene and poised. She is oh so loving and vibrant and it is hard to imagine that her secret could be so bad that she would choose to wander the moor alone.

It was so long ago that a dark masculine force ravaged her core and severed her soul. Since that day she has fought with a warrior spirit for its return to feel whole again. Despite its return she all too often feels empty and alone. She cries inside to be loved and held. She screams silently in her head to feel safe and secure. She yearns to love deeply and be loved back. She longs for the deep passion that resides within her to be unleashed. So she continues with her outward persona of happiness and she vows to find her true love that holds the key to unlock the shackles of her secret.

Elsewhere the Vultures are in the shadows picking away at her mistakes like it does not matter and they revel in the pain they cause her. Will they not be happy until they have picked away all her flesh to leave her body an empty shell? They have no understanding of her and why she is as she is. They have no desire to walk a mile in her shoes to feel the sadness that she has endured. Instead they look on her with disdain and dislike with complete disregard for her life.

The Lady on the Moor treads in silence outside at dusk and looks out into the darkness descending upon her. The dark mists envelop her physical form and penetrate deep into her soul. She feels the cold wind biting at her heart. Strands of hair cling to the tears on her face. Looking at the bleak moorland landscape she feels at home and safe from the Vultures. Connected to the land with bare feet she has roots reaching deep in to the core of the Earth that feeds her life force. 

She sees a face in the distance and he reaches out to her. She shakily takes his hand and gently pulls him towards her to feel his warmth and his gentle kisses. He too feels immense pain but they are kindred spirits and agree to share their journey. Old friends soon begin to dance around in front of her distracting her from the beauty that is to be found on this new journey of beautiful, fulfilling and knowing love. These old friends call themselves rejection, fear, possessiveness, control and jealousy.  She closes her eyes to them but she still hears them whispering their doubts in her ear. She makes a new pact with herself that these old friends will not spoil this new found passion and she continues the journey with a determined warrior spirit once more to leave them behind. But those old friends were actually her intuition, the wild woman instinct sent to protect her from harm. Ignoring their pleas she bounded ahead throwing caution to the wind. Suddenly the hand that had taken hers so gently snatched away from her and retreated back into the mist with such force that she span out of control into the darkness once more. Since taking his hand she had spent every waking moment at his request nurturing him, healing him, loving him and he was now gone back to another. All that they shared seemed not to have mattered to him and her tears began to flow and they flowed with so much pain and despair. She did she not listen to her instincts, the ancient woman's wisdom and she pays dearly yet again. She knows his journey now will be of such uncertainty and all her healing will be undone. He was blinded by sentiment and insecurities and he had no strength left to continue the less trodden path but she is powerless to save him now.

The Lady on the Moor disappears into the dark mists again and silently cries deep within her cold and bitter body. She stifles the primal screams of sadness so that no one will hear and continues to walk through the darkness barefoot trying once more to connect with her beloved land. Her eyes averted downwards and her spirit broken she vows never to succumb completely to the wounded adult calls again. Then she remembers that this pain will pass and as with each season that passes new hope will evolve and she will survive. But for now she must grieve for what she had and for what she lost.