she is a wanderer.
barefoot. without the jeweled riches and silver threaded silks. alone with only her thoughts to accompany her.
she tiptoes at the edge of time and explores the curves and crevices of the heavens. she dances at the peaks of the crumbling world and sleeps in its lazy valleys.
she is without a name. without her burdensome crown and seat of everlasting power. she has nothing.
yet she couldn't be more free.
