So, Supergirl
Woman of Tomorrow is one of the best comics I’ve ever read. So many emotions are littered throughout the panels; I just had to write about it.
While carnage fertilizes the land with atrocity, barbarity guides unforgiving steel through the heart of the innocent. A crimson haze descends, as having revenge in the driver’s seat can only place one behind the bars of misery. When frustration becomes one with thy ethos, the corrosion of the soul is all but certain.
A peaceful night of sleep is reserved for the privileged, for those who don't fantasize about the wicked’s blood trickling down their own blade. What is “Moving on” when savagery continues to mock the fallen? Creating more of the sad, angry, lonely, and lost.
Sometimes the plunge into madness is quick, and others can lean towards a slow burn with every meticulous detail seared into your memory. A torment that should only be reserved for the Brigands(Space terrorists) but has found sanctuary with the most virtuous.
The hand of the abhorrent wraps its mangled digits around the spine of heavenly bodies, and we just brace ourselves. Tolerating the fact that the brightest stars dont have the blessing of experiencing the dimness of a white dwarf. Somehow enabling Satanic amounts of gravity to engulf positivity. Relegating soft tissue to memories, while leaving the remainder to ponder how one does not let malevolence swallow them whole?
Coasting the Cosmos
Some panels take liberty with a paintbrush and lash bashfulness, while others blend colors in the wildest combinations. Hearts run wild as tints and tones wrap around the imagination.
She glides across the sunrise, surfing on a wave of grief. Lungs begin to fill with melancholy while the winds of plague ravage the skin. The air of the past is thick with resentment, but with each defiant breath, the hues of misery fade.
The last daughter of Krypton is known to break the will of an oppressor. Many have tried to debilitate, humiliate, and torture one of the Sun's favorite children, but standing tall in the face of the abominable was just another Tuesday.
How can you strike fear in a woman who has seen her planet fade away?
What could you say to a girl who saw her mom die slowly?
What nightmare could you produce that would encapsulate her father’s dream?
But while lifting worlds and defying magic itself may be necessary at times, it’s not the quintessence of her being. Compassion for the forgotten electrifies every motion, powering every cell, as helping others find solace is a superpower all in itself.
Woe
Tip-toeing across the macrosom, they became one with empathy. Mourning is a universal language, and whether it be building gravesites at light speed to give a sad undertaker a break—or offering moments of comfort to those suffering in their last moments- the dialect of grief knows no bounds.
Giving them the dignity that life selfishly kept hidden away. One cant tell if being the light is your choice or just destiny. Carrying so much emotional turmoil on your shoulders, only to be validated by the tears of people you dont even know.
Even when the Sun itself turns green with envy from your essence, you push forward. The universe could be considered empty, similar to some of the lifeforms in it. But instead of screaming into the void, hoping someone answers, you just pour an endless amount of love in.
She can be battered and bruised, but her morality remains grounded even when transported to a plain of despair. All to be bullied by a star that bears no kindness. Meanwhile, the stench of distress attracts any leviathan willing to test their mettle.
However, sharp teeth cant pierce the benevolence regardless if shes conscience or not. But a good deed can only go so far; some days dont leave, and there are moments where no amount of charity can make one forget.
Abandoned By God
Despite the cheerfulness of today, her days of the past are far darker than her demeanor would lead you to believe. A father’s final blessing, a mother’s quiet passing, and a society fractured. A brief history lesson lets one know that Krypton was on borrowed time. Still, a higher power decided to make sure she personally knew the meaning of despair.
From last-ditch ideas to just accepting one’s fate, confidence faded with the structure of the planet. She tried, she tried so God damn hard to stop the inevitable. Many started strong, but desperation chipped away at armor and buckled knees. From mining heavy metals all day, she eventually ended up alone, slamming a hammer into the unavoidable. As they dropped like flies, she remained. Passing out from the exhaustion, only to be awakened by the sound of steel hitting flesh.
The loss of hope was apparent. Thought to be extinct unless looking into the eyes of her parents. Who were ready to put everything they ever loved, wished, dreamed, all in their little girl. For without her knowing it, the last daughter of Krypton is more than just their child.
An amalgamation of this many positive natures is rarely found throughout the cosmos. Only cursed with the fact that she needs to find herself while carrying the aspirations of a dead world.
Why Me?
How is one supposed to know their purpose without any guidance? Evil is timeless and has more than enough ways to detach the soul, to stain your presence. Seeping into the crevices of society, until you look up and see a ship full of aggression and negative tendencies. Every neuron becomes infected with defeatism, while blocking synapses with anxiety. One could question if the fire inside is enough to weather the hail of depression.
Can she still persevere when calamity anchors its fangs around her throat?
Will she still have a heart when a bullet shreds its way through her mentality?
What will she do when she finds the source of all of the agony?
The weight of loss is tied to her like the cape around her neck. Even getting a fiery escort by a hail of gunfire brings fond memories of home. To face death and destruction seems to be the only thing she is familiar with, so why not bring it upon those who deserve it?
Is this for Nothing?
Like many of us reading this, blood, sweat, and tears flood into our passions, never questioning our drive. But when is enough, enough? Every day there’s another demon, a violent challenge, a person in need. What happens when willpower won’t suffice, when the building known as Supergirl caves in to the pressure? All of this love & compassion nonsense just to end in heartache.
A cycle of hatred continues to run with or without her volition. Why should she keep this standard that cant be maintained? Men like Krem are a dime a dozen, so why not spill his blood on the sand? To hell with sanity and values, why even bother?
She only knows an anguish that refuses to leave, paired with a pain that beats harder than any drum. So why even breathe? Why take another step? Why continue to sacrifice oneself for this “bullshit” greater good?
-Because some of us are meant to inspire.
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