The winds of motion
I pirouette, free from cares
Loathing and lonely
The weight of worlds arabesque
Centuries coming to cadence
The pounding rhythms of Brecconary still ring in my ear, like a spectre of the past. I dreamt of the lush spring of Avalon, and my youthful longings. I remember weaving spells within the mists, still an amateur, but wide eyed with wonderment and naivete, ensorcelling flowers and rainbows and learning who I was, who I wanted to be. I was a different girl. If I had not been lured by the Knight of Flowers would I still be that girl, wide eyed and naive, careless and carefree?
