Dual faces of an unseen predator
In a world spun from the threads of chaos, we are born into a tapestry of shadows. We are shimmering maidens in the night, nurturing within us a fire both subtle and strong. Yet, the air around us is heavy with whispers–danger and desire intertwined.
We walk the streets with anklets that jingle like wind chimes, but each step is taken with caution. The shadows stretch long, even at noon, as if to remind us of the fiends lurking in every corner, their eyes tracing our silhouettes like hunters stalking prey. The streets twist into dark corridors, and each step seems to be followed by a shadow that isn't ours, beating with the unknown threat that chases us by day and haunts us by night.
Our voices craft a tune that could awaken the sleeping gods, yet they are swallowed by the chaos of a world that cherishes only the thunder of a patriarch's roar. Our thoughts, so vivid and chaotic like a monsoon storm, are dismissed as mere drizzles, insignificant against the flood of recognition that parches our souls. We are the Goddess of Sagacity in a world that only worships power, our wisdom lost in the ocean of oblivion. No matter how high we fly, the sky remains beyond our grip, tethered by invisible strings, held tight by the hands of those who are threatened by our potential.
The predator wears many masks, each face a vow of something unspeakable. It is the ghost of old fears, its eyes are mirrors that reflect our own insecurities, a shadow hidden in the mundanities of everyday life. We feel it in the fleeting touch of an unknown hand, in the hollow echoes of a whispered promise, in the niceties of insincere gestures. Like the young girl who trusted the warmth of a father figure, her innocence shattered by the unseen face of that predator, her trust forever lost in betrayal. Or the lady in white coat who craved sanctuary in a place of learning, only to watch that shelter become a theater of treachery. Or the child who put faith in a guiding hand, only to have her expectations destroyed by deceit masked as support.
In the eternal darkness of our lives, we fight with a never ending truth etched into the depth of our existence. Safe streets, safe homes, safe haven are only but an elusive dream in a world where danger lurks in every shadow, every corner, every man. No matter how deeply we love or how boldly we confront the darkness, they are persistent, their faces constantly changing, their intentions hidden in the curves of our everyday struggles. In a world so drenched in endless threat, will we ever find solace or a way to mend? It's a question that will forever haunt us, like a predator we can't quite fend.
This is one of the top entries for Khero Khata, Star Books and Literature's monthly writing contest.
Nafisa Afreen Megha is an aspiring writer from Dhaka, Bangladesh. Her work consists of her individual thoughts, carefully put into words and turned to poetry. She is currently pursuing a Bachelor of Arts in English at North South University.
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