I went to the enchanted forest
dancing and wandering without worries.
I fell asleep in a soft bed of spruce needles
while the evening was still warm,
and woke up in the middle of the freezing night
with my back aching
and my eyes shut with icy tears.
The green dome that had lulled me before the spell
had become a harsh ceiling of white knives
that threatened to fall on me and tear me to pieces.
The cold gripped my veins and chopped my brain.
A patch of deep blue sky revealed the full, clear red moon,
like a jewel in the velvet gloves of a queen of yesteryear.
I felt like singing a lullaby.
And a howl came out.
Long and lonely.
Like the wolf who I had become.
©text: Olga Brajnović
©photo: Sean Pierce