The Literary Phoenix

Funny, the damage a silly little book can do. Especially in the hands of a silly little girl.

The road ahead disappeared
Into trees taller than her fears.

A deep breath…
…the drowning silence.

Darkness began to frost the leaves.
Their tiny green tips
Became muted mint,
And razor sharp edges
Sliced into the wind.

Another breath.

Nobody said
It would be easy.
Maybe the path of least resistance
Was the one she left behind.

A wise man once said
To take the path less travelled.
He had not spoke
Of thorns,
Spiders,
And the terrifying unknown.

Breathe again.
No fear.
No regrets.
Just one foot
In front of the other
On the path
To the unknown.

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