A girl named Karma came running thrue the forest
branches breaking under her boots
her hair glowing in the sunlight that escapes thrue the leaves of the oak trees
a golden gold in all the green
the grass is lime and the taste in her mouth sour as the fruit
on her head is placed a crown of flowers
they smell as spring but look like summer
red like the apples that grows in her garden
the garden that surrounds her home on top of the universe
here she spends her life in the cold air surrounded by winter
here she isn't the princess, she is the queen
a beautiful queen with beautiful scars cut by knives
eyes ****** and bold like stones
she herself is an open wound
like the screaming song a fallen bird sings
when it has left the nest and has to follow its own voice
A girl named Karma
like the myths of the fairies
she is beautiful, skin pale like marmour
and eyes standing out in her sharpened features
her jaw tightened as she walks towards the storm and takes what is rightfully hers
to save her people from the enemies in an armor of bones
the bones of the monsters under her bed
They called her Charlotte
as in “free man”
a royal name from The North
that was their biggest mistake…
...they should have named her Karma