(Picture Credit: Lambieb123)
I am subdued, almost afraid to rise. I move slowly, wrapping my warm golden tendrils around the deep purple night. I beat it down to a chalky mauve, and I get stronger. I sculpt the sky to my liking – today it is lavender and peach. The morning dew glistens, and I extend my control. I cast a web of light, my luminescence filtering through the leaves.
Soon, I reach my zenith. I am formidable. I am dominant. I penetrate the darkest corners of your world; I even make the dust dance. I am amber and maize, an orb of incandescence like no other. I blaze mercilessly, a blinding inferno against cornflower blue. I am radiant.
Suddenly, I am hurtling towards the horizon. I shoot out haphazard streaks of magenta and tangerine – byzantine sparks following close behind. The dying embers of day tint the sky crimson and I create ink black silhouettes against it. I am fire itself, scarlet and majestic.
I allow my rays to swirl around the clouds, burning and returning, racing with the wind. I am surrounded by a whirlwind of colour and chaos; a perfect round, cut in half by the edge of the world.
Without warning, I find myself struggling to stay afloat. I am weighed down, and I feel my might wavering. The sky fades to a dull rose, my lustre diminished. I no longer dazzle. I am a mere shadow of myself, and the sky is now a bruise of ultramarine and violet.
I am engulfed by Stygian darkness. The stars are sequins, glittering impertinently. I retreat into a cavern, having resigned myself to defeat. I am the colour of midnight.
I convalesce, and I regain a fragment of my former strength. I stretch, tentatively peering beyond the horizon. I extend myself further, willing myself to illuminate and overcome the night.
And again, I rise.
© Anushka Baruah
(English Honours, 1st Year)
WordCraft - The Ramjas Literary Society 