Pinnacle

She fades,
fades into oblivion.
Even in day spring,
becomes a void.
She gets rid of her shades,
and gets dyed in black.

Tonight,
her eyes are tedious,
her physiognomy stark.
She no longer dreams,
and will not paint the canvas
of her heart again.
She will no longer roam freely
in the avenue of her imagination.
She won't fly carefree,
won't crackle carelessly again.
As it is the end,
the end of her childhood.

And ahoy!
She celebrates her adulthood.