in chains and changed
time dragging
like a dying clock
days devoid
of sunlight and earth
wrapped in
concrete and steel
cacophony and silence
so the gypsy lies
imprisoned
sleeping more
eating less
waiting for the power
of three times three
to play out
its hourglass minutes
until darkened fires
can be relit
cauldrons filled
and the magic
once again restored
from the ash of the child
she once was
and never will be
again
