Upon the forest's edge, where wildflowers die,
A circus stirs, where children’s whispers wail.
Their laughter, haunting, mingles with the sky,
A tender madness veiled in sorrow's tale.

Through grieving's grace, she stumbled to his hand,
A savior's touch igniting rebel flame.
In fleeting moments, love defied command,
Rebirth arose, unchained from sorrow's claim.

Yet sleepwalking, her steps betrayed her soul,
Through dewdrop fields her haunted spirit roamed.
A thought mistaken bore a heavy toll,
Uncut her hair, forgiveness yet unhomed.

In sorrow’s bloom, her heart began to mend,
Awaiting grace where loss and love transcend.