I was from a dream, a gentle embrace—
a place of impossible worlds and unexpected journeys,
a memory of fantastic beasts I've never truly forgotten,
songs of sunshine and peonies and deep, restful sleeps,

I came from a dream kept safe by trees.

I am from a gale, the rising wind—
of eyes grey and gold hidden by dyed hair and bleeding knuckles,
of nights sleeplessly wondering, waiting, wishing — reflected by dark circles I am unable to hide,
a hollow void threatening to swallow everything I've become,

I am from a gale on which dead leaves ride.

I will be from a story, a forgotten adventure—
of forests as old as time, places I can protect,
of loving eyes and warm smiles that turn every painful memory into a distant shore,
a tapestry of dreams both found and forgotten,

I will be from a story with a happily ever after.