she walks a tree lined street-clutching her school books- her hair golden, absorbing the sunshine morning.
the home coming queen captivates all in her presence; the sadness in her eyes ignored.
darkness and mystery consume her, a diary of stolen pages where her secrets lie; she must now find a new hiding place for it.
the magician conjures, a meeting takes place; the man she now knows is coming to play.
she is walking with fire now, will she loose the fight?
the mystery of the woods is seeking her out, a grasp so tight.
with a last goodbye to the one she loves; she runs into the dark with a knowing fate. Tears are shed.
with a last goodbye to the one she loves; she runs into the dark with a knowing fate. Tears are shed.
the angels show their grace with one, but passes her to them, for a deal which evil has won.
wrapped in plastic her body bludgeoned, her lips blue; she belongs to them now.
beyond the sycamore trees she sits in a room filled with red, forever in our dreams.
SW
London, 2011
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