Adventurous spirits roam the world,
Staring carelessly at the life that continually progresses.
And she, a wanderer, treads oh-so delicately on a beam,
Attempting to balance her ecstasy and those of others.


She remains trapped in an endless labyrinth,
Turning her hopes and potential into mere wishes upon a shooting star.
Her world, a far-fetched fantasy in the collection of fictitious cliché fables,
She, a maiden in a dungeon awaiting the arrival of her prince.

She lives as a daisy in a field of weeds,
For loneliness is a gift bestowed by God but a curse granted by the Devil himself.
She treads through the endless fields to bustling cities,
Yet never picking up companions along the way.

But she chooses to look down on the world that she strides through with an audacious spirit,
And watches as life continues beneath her, for she is never alone.