Bewitched

By abandoned roads, this lost princess, 

wanders aimlessly through shadow,

towering branches,

and clawing brooke.

Not blinded of the path,

but to see it so distantly,

so out of reach,

that it is easier just to sit--

rest--only breifly.

Just for a moment to close her eyes

and forget the branches;

the brooke.

To taste the bittersweetness of "If Only"s.

And the princess fell into a deep sleep.

She had bitten the apple, 

and not a witch was to be seen.