I.  THE RABBIT HOLE 

Deep in the rabbit hole, 

a magical carrot floats, 

secured in place 

by a pedestal woven of veins. 

Each tendril stretches toward it, 

protecting it,

as it pulsates with magic, 

beats with the forest’s breath. 

“Only for the pure-hearted souls,” 

says the engravings on the stone,

but the words are left ignored, 

forgotten,

for the temptation is too much, 

too hard to resist. 

One bite and immediately,

magic finds home in Nieves’ heart

and proceeds to pump

immortality through her veins.

II. THE CURSE

As she reenters the meadow, 

her eyes scan every corner

her excitement now replaced

by fear, longing, and sorrow.

Long gone is the meadow 

she knew and loved.

Long gone is the clear sky,

the moist grass, the hay, and the—

house:

Where she grew up. 

Where she played with her siblings.

Where shadows now linger, 

eyes soulless yet vengeful. 

Clutching the carrot like a rosary,

Nieves murmurs a prayer

as she flees deep into the forest, 

chased away by the shadows and her guilt.

II. GOATMAN

She reaches a cave where a goat sat idle.

“The name’s Goatman,” he says weakly.

“The world has gone dark and I cannot see 

The plants have died and I cannot spot 

The last ingredient, a daffodil, to cure my soul.”

Determined to restore the meadow 

and still be with her beloved immortality, 

she scurries off to find the daffodil—

her last chance at redemption.

IV. THE DAFFODIL

In the garden, decay has taken over

and replaced all greens with beige. 

The curse keeps the flowers wilted, 

the leaves brittle, 

the branches askew.

Surrounded by death is a daffodil 

so lone and sickly yellow. 

A sight of life 

neither inspiring nor blissful, 

But awfully vile, 

a power that thrives 

by sucking all 

from those that threaten it.

Breathing so long as the others don’t. 

As Nieves plucks it from the soil,

the garden releases a gasp,

as though it has received 

a true love’s kiss. 

But as quickly as it caught its breath, 

it succumbs to sorrow once more, 

leaving Nieves with a daffodil,

a goat to cure,

a heart to turn pure,

and a meadow to restore. 

V. THE LAKE 

The lake carries memories 

Nieves refuses to reminisce

As she passes by it, 

the shadows whisper and taunt,

reminding her 

of the torment she had wrought.

“It was you who turned the world cold and dark 

Did you want to see your inside manifest on the outside? 

The flowers have died 

The sky has lost its color 

We are all inside you now 

Witnessing your soul after our eyes.”

Nieves dives into the lake,

wanting to drown out the whispers 

more than she fears drowning to death.

There is a certain beauty to terror 

when you are trapped in it, 

forced to experience it in its entirety. 

When you sink, sink, sink, and realize— 

perhaps sinking isn’t that bad at all, 

perhaps you aren’t sinking at all, 

perhaps you are only drifting, 

only experiencing another part of life. 

Is that so bad at all?

Back on the grass, 

the shadows dance and play,

unguarded, distracted,

too close to the lake.

The sight is all-too-familiar, 

all-too-horrifying.

It’s a sight she knows too well:

It’s her siblings

hopping on the grass,

ignorant of the danger to come, 

with much vigor 

she could never match.

VI. THE ANTIDOTE

Daffodil in hand, 

Nieves hurries back to Goatman.

He offers a weak smile,

“Keep the daffodil, dear Nieves, 

for I no longer need it 

more than I need to be 

reunited with my family.” 

“No, no, no,” Nieves begs, 

“I have to cure you, it’s the only way!” 

“Feel your heart from your chest, dear.

Do you not feel its warmth? Its power? 

Only pure hearts beat that way.

Now leave me be,

for there is no greater pain

than staying for anything

other than meaning.”

VII. THE SACRIFICE

Back in the rabbit hole, 

Nieves meets once again 

the pedestal woven of veins,

now empty and desperate 

of the magical carrot 

that once vitalized them.

She offers the carrot back

but the veins stay still, 

for it is no longer pure,

no longer sacred. 

She places her hand over her chest, 

Goatman’s words in her head. 

Her heart pulsates strangely, familiarly. 

It beats with the forest’s breath.

She notices the veins timidly stretching, 

attempting to reach her. 

And she slowly understands, 

slowly accepts. 

As her fingers meet with the veins, 

she steps into the pedestal.

Then the world glowed 

like it has never glowed before.