Silent as the waters,

Quick as the fall,

Running through bladed grass,

Ignoring their call,

As scheming as a sly fox,

Stalking for a kill,

She ran a long time ago,

Just for the hills,

Spirited like sway of leaf,

As gentle as a feather,

‘All lies and no more truths,’

So told the Teller,

Damned from the beginning,

Cursed with a wild heart,

There was no heed to the,

Uncertain chart,

Escaped barely,

Doesn’t know where to go, can

Hardly stand,

Lips dry, head hazy,

Mouth so full of sand,

Drowning in her mistakes,

Simple-minded fool,

How does adventure feel?

—A dark kind of cruel,

Conniving and dangerous,

Shaded and far,

Lost her mind a while ago,

Beneath the pointing star,

Alone and so tired,

Fighting to survive,

How does following your heart,

Feel now this time?

Wild child,

Stupid girl,

You’ve strayed too far away,

Should’ve take the advice the

Teller gave,

End of the story of the Wandering

Girl,

Some say her soul lives on somewhere

In this world,

Where the meadow rests under the fall

Is where she lie,

Faded in the very place she sought to

Find,

The place she put such hope in,

There, hazed her mind,

Hair as the green grass, feeding the

Valley,

Wild spirit living on, though ending

Tragically.