Open a page,
A thin sheet of paper,
The slab of stone,
or the whisper of magic,
To find a girl.

Sometimes a dragon,
A warrior,
Or an elf,
Creatures of fantasy,
Lives of the nonexistent to all but her.

Slayer of dragons,
Taker of hearts,
Queen of a realm.

Enthusiastic she is,
To tell a tale,
Of words from the depths of her mind,
Of colors,
Persons,
And lessons,

To show the ecstasy of joy,
The volcano of rage,
The agony of pain,
And the flood of grief,

But there are times,
When the pages of fantasy close,
And a girl enters reality,

When the vibrancy of adventure fades,
And cold reality grips hard,

But as time flies by,
Like a dragon fleeing an arrow,
The girl learns—

Learns that the coldness of reality,
Is a novelty,
Something to value,
To respect.

For she realizes that without the coldness of reality,
The joyful moments would be like dust,
Ash,
Nothing.

So she wanders the paths of life,
Following the loving Light,
Thankful for the adventures of reality.

For without reality,
Where would inspiration come from?
Or happiness?
The sweet lesson of pain?
Or the reward of success?

So she dabbles in words,
Returning to fantasy,
Only to come back to reality,
To be her own adventurer—
In the Light

To where colors and joys of life—
Are real