Zatanna-YoungJustice

I'm not ready to leave. The willow trees and the fresh, breezy air will miss me too much. The birds will miss my song to them. The rush of the river will cease in protest. But the sun on the hills need me for illumination, And the tides of the beach won't flow without me. The eyes of the swans and beauties just won't sparkle in my absence. Most of all, I haven't yet claimed your endearment. For that alone, I shriek to the ground just beneath me an apology, And I whisper across the miles of plains "I think... I'll stay a bit longer."

The clouds above are light and cheerful. The breeze is sweetly blowing in swirls. There's nowhere else so beautiful. All is right in this world. (That's how I should have known something was wrong...) My hands slowly sail up above me, And a smile creeps its way onto my face and I suck air into my lungs. Interrupting my tranquility and destroying my glee, The air forms claws like razor tongues. They grab at my throat and soon the ground is stolen from beneath my feet. I gasp for breath and struggle with the invisible form. I pull at what's holding my neck. Then I feel warm. I kick as hard as I can in the right direction (I was lucky...) And

I ran, hoping to break the ties and strings, Slipping out of them. But where they held me on the outside, Left me falling apart and breaking on the inside. Surely, if I ran back, If I sprinted, if I flew, I'd find my piece...? Piece... Missing... Mine... Yes, I recognized it. It was definitely mine.