From Plaything to Phantom

A doll, as plain and pale as frost, Once deemed my spirit would be lost— As swift and boundless as the breeze, As what in them I'd come to seize! For life, I held, was barren ground Where some were born for glory crowned; Those left must wither to the bone, But these were whispers, mine alone. They taught me how to breathe and bend, Resolved my doubts that would not end, And showed me whom to truly fear— The human race, now ringing clear. Amusing how the ages sing Of power flowing, whispering; How reason's walls come crashing down When faith ascends to claim its crown. Thus now my tale begins to soar: My gift unlocks a hidden door, Through shadows deep and mysteries... And soon, my dear, we'll dance with ease. -