Withering and caving,
Accustomed to this
Sallow and sick
Freed of longing where there's fix
Solutions unspoken; she suffers to summon
A faithful fairy called on
In shaded evergreens, she appears
"Aren't you lucky miss,
To have made it this far,
With your kind of illness,
You should be covered in scars"
They walk together,
In the void of silence
Towards a wired gate,
Unhinging a path
Poised and in ponder;
What is left to do?
The fairy lips part
"Well, my sweet,
Something's got to give
For things, things will become unmanageable
Just ask your thoughts within"
A notion envelopes her mind,
Something's got to give-
A smile to bear, a kill to live!
Wanton eyes encroach the fairy
Brown reflecting green
She musters a speech of certainty:
"I surrender to you, my will,
It has only harmed the one it betrothed
Now tell me how luck grows -
Amidst a field of cloves"
