Le carrousel

Porcelain skin

Glowed against the golden flutes

Which matched her waist grown locks.

Wide as an owl her ocean blue eyes

Soaked in the twirling mosaics

And the oil strokes of rainbow.


Up and down she howled with laughter

All she saw were wings in the fairy lights

And her château coated in ivy

Just waited for her beyond the next turn of the wheel.


She dreamed of knights and castles

Her world was imagined through magic.

Each turn of the page

Each turn of the wheel

Her mind took her to somewhere new.


In the decaying leaves of winter

The carousel froze in time.

All that glittered was gone.

And the endless spectrum became

Black and white.


Magic turned to dust

Princes turned into demons

Castles turned into a stark, cold cage.

Monochrome still life

A blank canvas.

Nothing more.


Locked in the dungeon

She became her own prisoner

With only a meer window that peered

To the golden carousel of her past

Where endless possibilities existed.


When does the ride stop spinning and the world start turning?






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