Peter Pan is Dead

Wendy the proud, Wendy their mother, Wendy the story teller, Wendy with a death sentence. Her hair billowing around her face Her night gown flowing in the wind She holds her chin high Her death she knows Is very near. The pirate’s voice washes over her Her sentence clear. She will walk no plank this time, She will have no last words, This time she will die. She feels the calloused hands grab her. She knows what’s next, No pixie dust will save her, No flying boy will rescue her. Her knight has died. Their savior is dead. The boys are now truly lost. Peter Pan is dead. The truly lost boys are crying. She wishes to comfort them, But she has nothing Save one final reassuring glance She is flying But this flight brings no joy. She sees the water drawing closer. Her eyes squeeze shut. SPLASH! Encompassed in freezing Dark Nothingness She is lost. And Peter Pan is dead. Wendy the proud, Wendy their mother, Wendy the story teller, Wendy is dead.