Six years old with ragged clothes and bright golden hair,
Clutching imaginary friends and a stuffed polar bear.
She was an avid dreamer with a thousand-mile stare,
Alone but never lonely, only ever without care.
She wandered streets paved with a child's imagination
And made friends with the faces at which only she could stare.
Though her home was such a broken place beyond repair,
She rested in a fantasy that cannot be impaired.
She dreamed of scenes of evergreens that teemed with things that sing
So joyously, for the joy they bring her seems so rare.
This little princess ruled her world with smiles, love, and hope,
But her enchanted kingdom paled the older that she'd grow.

Seasons change, from sun to rain, from warm to cold they fade.
Autumn brings the death of beauty, summer falls away.
What was green, alive and vibrant dies as chill sets in:
A king flew in on winter winds and deflowered the purity within.

Twelve years old, the little girl grew cold to all that was.
No longer were her dreams a haven made of callow love.
Defiled princess fears her king who towers high above
Her land now filled with monstrous fiends that devastate the *****.
Just as dying leaves discolor and fall from off their trees
Did little Autumn's self esteem degrade most rapidly.
With no dreams left to offer solace, no hope to be seen,
She withers with her wizened world of wonders once pristine.
To wash away the degradation felt within her bones
Alone she traveled to a bridge, onto the ledge she leaned.
She closed her eyes and took a dive headfirst into the stream
And with one final breath, bereft, the soul of Autumn leaves.