Willing to bet if she had her way
she'd remove herself from here –
moving along from all these dull plains
past her stowaway history
She would find herself in a different world
with a different make-belief
And born in the light of her new adventures
she would cease to be

A taste of freedom, taste of flight
Piece of heaven, piece of night
Lost in daydreams, ones so real
...She is too far to feel
With scent of morning in her hair
And snow falling, softly there
Prone to wisdom, one so old
...Though she was never told


//work in progress//