The landscape of her heart was that of a forest-with trees she tended with the most intentional of roots.
But things happened that she would never understand.
For ties were cut and the bonds she was so attached to were actually shackles on her feet. And in a moment she felt desperation so intimately intertwined with freedom.
Because the things she loved were purposefully withering and she had only just noticed those bonds were shackles weighing her down.
And so the forest burned and everything she devoted to went up in hostile flames.
As she stood in the ashes that now covered her heart, a single sprout emerged in the darkness.
And that little sprout rose as a Phoenix and gave the girl hope in the unknown forest that would soon replenish her broken soul.