Once there was a pretty girl.
In her little peach gown she would twirl.
The waters would freeze to look at her,
the wind too would stop it's whirl.
She would tame thunders with her grace,
she'd melt ice with her gaze.
Her every action spitted fire.
She had everything anyone would desire.
Bright pink roses in her hair.
Rainbows would follow her everywhere.
She went to the black woods in search of flowers,
but the clouds that day sprayed their heaviest showers.
She walked and walked on unknown grounds,
but it felt like she walked in the same rounds.
The dense forest swallowed her,
the forces of nature wallowed her.
The sky was frightening with sparks,
the woods were dreary with their sinister darks.
The roses in her hair were smashed,
her little peach gown was trashed.
The waters didn't halt for her,
and the winds showed their awful stir.
There was no more fire burning.
To cold and pale, she saw her skin turning.
There were no rainbows to hide under,
she had no grace left to soothe the thunder.
Into an ice block her body curled.
Once there was a pretty petty girl.
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Thoughts of a Juvenile
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