In a dark jungle,
Covered by a frosty spell,
A glittering moon was playing
Between the howls.
A little girl
Sat listening to a fairy tale.
Like all the others,
She turned to her mother and asked:
“Can I become a witch
Instead of a princess in the story?”
Her astounded mother asked,
“Why?”
She replied, in a soft voice:
“I want to be the hero of my tale—
The weaver of my own destiny’s thread.”
Rather than a princess
Waiting for a prince,
Who needs a pair of crystals
To recognise me.”
— Ray Moonee