The girl in the tower

Light filters in,

Like soft thorns on her skin.

She slips it through her fingers,

Imagining it a ribbon

Winding round her hand

So she can bring down the sky and it’s stars.

She listens to the wind

And imagines feathers on her back,

To fly up with the ravens

And greet the moon as one.

She recites all her spells,

And summons monsters she shouldn’t know-

Ones with red eyes-

From the dusk,

But the night was never hers.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s