The story tale that she lived and existed in
Like a princess above in the mountains
Bloomed with the buds every season
Sailed with each drop of monsoon
Tiny quixotic what that she was
Learned the direction winds were hovering her to
Picture-perfect empire with all that she could wish
So...she assembles on her stallion
And shoots; headed for the newly lit night
To be captive forever in the dungeons
Crushed and buried deep within is all
Not the end as he believed
But birth of a the epitome of animosity
To further live and command
And see out of her territory
To encounter the tangible world and let open
All the doorways to the novel wild
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