Lover of the falling stars and whispering screams,
the columbine petals buried beneath leaves.
Able to gaze and smile at the marigold beams,
the blades of pity her strongest foe.
Feeling this game of chance has turned to chess,
the tight-lipped smile of the stranger so dear.
She wonders of the genie's lamp,
those tales of triumph that afire her year.
Yet she fears the self-built cage of glass,
the rose tinted panes reflect her mind.
Wishing flight along with the birds of paradise,
the billions of fireflies blazing one final time.
Dreaming of the world so fresh, so young, so bold,
her place in the garden of life untold.

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