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