I choose to forge ahead,

to push through the fog and fatigue

and the forbidden forest

that my body has become.

I am the Knight,

standing at the wall of brambles and thorns

with his sword sharp enough to cut through

but unsure how to move forward.

I am the Princess,

kept prisoner by the walls of her body,

unable to fine a way out

to see the world around her

and unsure of what she will find there.

I am the Wizard,

able to weave spells with words

that bring solace to many,

and yet he is unable to

find a magic that will cure him completely.

I am also the Sage,

able to find comfort in the wisdom of staying still.

She looks at the world around her

and listens to the music

that the water makes as it rolls over the rocks

or the sound of clouds floating across the sky

so that she can determine what

the world will say.

Yet still,

I forge onward

with my sword held high,

a thirst for the world

and a magic beyond naming

running through me.

I try to find my way through a world within

that is so strange and at the same time

a world outside of myself,

so beautiful that even the shadows

of the forbidden forest hold wonders

waiting to be found.