Turning is all that could be done. There was no strait path to tread. So she foresoke the paved path for another. One that rained through fire and drowned in acid. Never was there a simple answer for her seeking mind. All she could find was mahame in her path. There was no fleeing, only embracing. What was a little bit if blood? Death? It was but a fleeting thought in her floundering mind. Death and decay seemed to be her only company in the churning world. It wasn't strait nor was it easy. It turned and turned in that rolling chaos. There was no freedom for her. Her fingers splayed out reaching for it, but only brushing it. She was trapped in the rigid web of so called justice. So slave to the whims of others. But soon she will find the freedom so sought. No longer following others in a broken circle. Tired of it and it's simplicity. So the wall will be shattered and freedom gained.
