She lived in her world of imagination
mystic land, precious harbor of fabrication.
Lost to reality and every day strife
wandering contentedly most of her life.
Dreams were her comfort, they were her friends
isolated, always sheltered when sadness descends.
Fear was her chain, the prisoner's cell
deeper into the beautiful daydream she fell.
A virtual paradise within her reach
from castles of gold to an endless beach.
No restraints, no barriers, each quest won
no sorrow, or pain, just bright skies and sun.
She dared wander no further than the jar's rim
not wanting to view her lifetime quite grim.
Dreaming 'neath coverlets woven by her
adorned in her finery, wrapped in a fur.
She wondered at times if it might not be wrong
to shun the world wherein she might just belong.
Ever so carefully she would tiptoe out
into the real world suppressing her doubt.
A new dawn it beckoned, it whispered her name.
She knew when the beginning of her liberty came.
Though the world was not perfect, she wanted to see.
She could no longer be a victim of her fantasy.
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