calm
transcended
bonded
with nature
magic
at her finger tips
it
was both wonderful and splendid
returned
reality
tossed
back in the rat race
a
slave to Cronus, God of time
until
the end of her mortality
committed
wound
up tighter then a screw
she
stopped eating, sleeping and got all paranoid
things
snapped, lost a grip, teetered on real and imaginative
she
played a symphony of pain and painted a master piece in hews of red
Copyright
© 2015 by Patrick B Vince
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