Skyla

In the silver majestic moonlight
A fairy tale turns to dust.
As the witching hour begins
So begins the carnival of rust.
Feeling lost and confused
Feeling lost and used.
Dreaming of far off lands, covered in sand
Within all the battles and the sparks
Searching for the light, the light in the dark.
She belongs to the warmth, heat and the flame
Does she believe that life is a game?
Consumed by Fate and mistrust
How will she encounter the truth and the just?
Chasing her own monsters, dreaming her own dreams.
Fighting the freezing cold with fire
Aiming high, she will grasp her desires.
Enabling the impossible without the obvious obstacles
At times locked up in the cages. with her thoughts
Gobbled up in some visually categorized stages.
Resisting the night, enduring the day
Strength, knowledge and power to take them without further delay.