Some Where - Apr 12

Toppled by a bottle, collapsed upon her painful past, asleep—but well awake!—, unmoving, but for her mind stirred aquake, the girl is yawning before her black dawn. Alone, couched by a burning blanket drawn over a conscience guilty at the stake, slipping into the sly hands of the snake, she sees not clearly the sickening con which lures her slowly to her deathly state. Unknowingly, she’s dozing, edging deeper into the dreamrealm, into the hazy murk of the promised land. Her name was Daisy— until, unexpected, said the reaper, “Poor thing… if only you could now change fate.”