With the taste of the wind upon her lips and the sound of the air in her lungs,
She took her usual walk in the emerald green meadow.
Not a bad thought in her head as she hummed an innocent tune of nectar.
Her fingers brushed across the oak tree as she whispered her feelings to it, silently.
She sighed of contentment as she sat at the base of the tall oak guardian.
This was her home, her safe haven, her comfort, her place.
Her eyes drooped and her soft hands fell to her side as she began to sleep,
Dreaming of only gardenias and passerine birds.
But she was not alone in her safe haven at the time.
A frequent passerby saw the familiar figure and shook their head in sorrow.
They knew all too well the story of the fragile girl beneath the oak,
The one whom everyone talked about, but in a sorrowful way.
Her life was coming to a close, just like the day was too.
The passerby had a tangible jealousy as she watched the young girl doze,
For the fragile one was in a perpetual state of blissful ignorance.
She was unaware of the card fate had dealt her with a vengeful hand.
The child was more content than the passerby who did have a future to look forward to.
So, she remained there during that twilight, hidden in the darkness,
Long after the passerby went on their way to lead their life.
But she stayed, peacefully, until she too became part of the shadows.