through the crashing of the waves
and the boom of the thunder
clashing in the arena,
she struggled up steep mountains,
nearly blown off the tallest peaks by cruel winds,
nearly drowned in the depths of rivers.
thousands of times – stand up –
she looked, when the cover of the night
blanketed the ruthless sun,
at the thousands of stars –
bright lights in stifling darkness.
and thousands of times,
even when her legs would not move,
even when thousands of scars
covered her body,
and she staggered weakly across
uneven sidewalks,
she stood up.
looking to the dawn at the end of the night,
looking to the future ahead of her,
looking to the warmth,
looking to the horizon —
stand up.
she stood up.
A/N: inspired by Wang Yibo’s “廿“ (Twenty)
Chaos of Life 