She was borne at dawn, in a tent, on a rooftop
Her moon like eyes reflected lightening the way mirrors brutally reflects imperfections
Her tiny hands had engraved palmar creases that spelled “strength”
Her smile was the rarest of sapphires and to dishonesty her heart was stealth
She grew up longing for the day she leaves her tent to face the world
Every night she goes to sleep to watch her dreams unfold
She dreams of lions speaking of fear
roaming around like clouds
A sword and a torch appear in her tiny hands
“I will defeat you” she says
But she wakes up! …
Only with warm tears blocking her eyesight … …
She used the torch to seal the tent closed
And the sword to cut herself a tiny window
From which she could look out
convincing herself that … this way … she can safely face the world!
So, she stays …
In the tent … on the rooftop …

Out blossoms the fractal of endless colors..
Inmost to the outmost reach of the oblivion and creation thoughts..
The convolution gyre where your thought first formed..
A helix of fragments that turn into a memory..
A memory where I remember you from a dream..

Since I heard you died,
I have been brittle.
Angry at the wrong people.
Afraid of things that aren't really scary.
Fighting the biggest battles
with the smallest guns.

Now I know you are gone,
tears come at unexpected times.
I grieve the woods you once walked in.
My arms thick as branches,
and frozen as the icicles
hanging from my fingers.

If you see a girl reading,
And she is lost in that world of words,
Do not get up and bother her,
For you are blocking
Her path of escape
Into a world where people are allowed
More than a few moments of happiness.
So let her stay
Away from this world, we call reality,
Because that may be all she has.