But as the time she can no longer count
just ticks on by
and the cold walls of crystal
have their venom seep into her
and lucidity is an occasional recollection
of something that may or may not have been
as her trance wears on
and the sitting spell continues
with all this weight
of worry and exhaustion
and magic that fades without the love it was borne by, in the most difficult of times
and even stars fade from her eyes
Her voice is regained with water
but there is no one to speak to
and the few times she cried out
in this crystal-spiked den
only her ears rung with shattered forms of her image,
but all of them are but reflections splattered across the crystalline chunks
And when nearby echoes that can't be more than a dream fade
there is an instant
when crystal shatters
and a bit of magic sparks within her
at the sight of—
"TWILIGHT!"