Shoulders back with a smile on her face
Another notch on her belt
Feeling her heart warm
Purity
Beauty
Understanding that all have fallen
All have fallen
Walking….no.. marching….no.. running
Not a glance behind
As her feet spark fire that leaves ash in it’s wake
All have fallen
Not a care for a single one
Should any remain standing
They stand as those that stand as worthy
Little Wren 