She was but a broken soul that needed to be mended, to be fixed and to be held up. Showed love and care. ''You're back to save us!" She cried, tears spilling uncontrollably as her arms swerved around my waist. As if the soul could bleed an ocean through the eyes, that was the enormity of her sobbing.
In sobbing there is a surrender to grief that brings an ability to rise once the wave has passed.
Other hands followed after hers, the crowd and everyone in it struggling to embrace me.
Shouts of celebration and hope feeling the air, sounds of 'our saviour is back' .
"And after those, were long live the queen"
