The world slowed.
Moments were extended beyond reality,
Stretched impossibly, eternally.

Footfalls fell,
Akin to an iron-bound door closed for life, to life.
Echoes, hollow and deep, bellowed off the walls.
Sounds lingered.

They quickened, the boots on the tiles,
But the power of the moment slowed their approach.

Intakes of breath, sharp with shock,
Stopped in the silence.
The air was too thick,
Nothing but long, drawn, whistles of time.

Eyes like fire danced on the silence,
Their message needed no sounds.
The reply, icy in contrast.
Daggers flew,
Slowed,
And stopped.

Sparks sizzled,
Writhing against their interminable bonds,
By silence, by time.

Wraithlike,
Beyond even the unreal,
She travelled amidst the stillness,
Amidst the silence.

Obstructing the messages,
The daggers,
She faced the fire and faced the ice.
As only She can.

The world rippled in Her wake,
Though the air remained motionless.
She did not disturb.
Rather the world,
In veneration,
Acknowledged Her presence in unified obeisance.

She quelled the fire,
Warmed the ice,
Absorbed the daggers,
And smiled.
As only She can.

Reality returned,
Memory revived,
She blossomed.

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