My feet scraping against the floor as I ran,
my eyes fleeting across the usually so calming space,
my hands trailing against the walls,
always on the right side.
I remember her voice,
a simple happy day back then,
and now it seemed like a meaningless choice,
leaving me behind to stay.
Or so I thought,
never did I want to see her again,
those white bones,
that only she owns.
The gate was getting closer,
my feet now on the grass below,
my hands leaving the wall,
my heart skipping it\'s call.
Hope was close,
yet dread was catching up as I heard the voice that made my stomach sink,
the pit opening again as the light seemed to close,
yet I kept running.
However I knew,
I would never be as cunning,
as that fox behind the mask,
his grin stretching from ear to ear,
his name not suiting him,
for it meant the first,
yet he was the last I wished to hear.