Maya

Dawn approaches
The children of the night close their eyes
And run for shelter in the woods
The half-imaginary people are laid to rest
And the lines between good and bad are blurred
Tiny feet touch the morning dew on the grass
That grow at the edge of the forest
The trees are enchanting,
And the freedom of the forest, tempting
But little Maya has chains on her feet
Those that keep her from flying
And though the forest beckons to her,
And the clouds spread their arms wide
She turns around and walks towards her home
Where the promise of warm meal and shelter
Drags her head down from the clouds up above

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