She was a girl
Of years ten and eight,
Stuck in a fight that was not hers.
Her years ten and eight
Were enough to thrust responsibility in her hands:
Power and freedom
That she had no idea how to use.
To her, these were just words,
Lying words that sounded full
Of hope and promises
But she knew that in the dusk of reality
These words were nothing but shadows,
Hollow and slowly fading into the darkness.
Each night she prayed for wings
Wings to lift her up and out of this place.
But each night the shadows grew
Darker and longer,
Stretching over everything she had ever known
Plentiful were those ominous shadows,
Clouding her mind,
Clouding her vision,
Clouding her reality.
Until one day they led her to the old tress bridge
That rested halfheartedly over the river.
As she saw eighteen years' worth
Of snapshot memories
In a kaleidoscope slideshow,
As the icy water rushed up to meet her,
For that was the day
She finally grew wings
Grew wings to fly,
To lift her up out of the shadows
And into a place of true promise.