Fairy Girl & A World Like This

My soul was never meant to kneel at the altars of greed,

where gold outweighs the weight of flesh, and mercy is bartered like scraps.

This world gnaws on itself.

Fangs of hunger sharpened by power,

hearts sold for the price of silence,

evil strutting in daylight as though it were holy.

But I,

I am made of softer things, like

a body of smoke and shimmer,

skin that remembers the moon, and

lips that taste like honeyed dusk.

My aura, hums with something otherworldly, there is

a sensual drift, a pulse that does not belong to cages.

I walk through cities like a ghost crowned in wildflowers,

a fairy girl haunted by iron towers and concrete prayers.

Every shadow tries to devour me, every glare to clip my wings.

This life is haunting,

not for me,

but for the ones who would bind me.

Fore they cannot hold what was born to breathe in magic air.

I do not belong, and still I linger,

haunting them as much as they haunt me.