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When life refused to befriend Zooni,
She chose to look forward to death.
She had believed too much in life’s loony
tunes, dying was windy, cool and woolly.
She sat across in quietude for a while,
For she knew not, what death could bring her?
Yet she chose to silence it all,
Slowing down her bright tunes once agile.
She renounced it all, nothing could
ever be her own, “nothing should.”
she thought. “All is stained in colours
unknown, when I do not get what I choose.”
She was happy, she was always on her own, free.
Always in a forest, some of men, some of many tree.
Here she stood amongst trees, yet not alone.
But then, the world missed her, searched for her.
She did not leave though, calling it her home.
They plundered her thoughts, trying to scare her dare,
since on earth no one can actually bare
their souls, refuse to submit to games so foul.
But, then she stuck to the tree,
learnt to live life with them as friends in wee
hours, none could make her unhappy
none could make her dance to their unscathed
Stories of the old. She lived and lived for she chose death
But, death said, “you have a long way to go, the wraith
of all, has left you, free, clean you are one of my own.
Therefore, live as I fend for you in silence unknown.”