She ran out of luck,
down on it, they told her
not to venture under
the bridge it lived
she has arrived
yet, feeling short-lived.
The beast snarled close,
arose from the depths
knows no riddle for her
to yield the green grass
on the other side. No one
bigger than her behind
no horns to sway his behind
stranded on a wasteland
looking in on paradise.
Saint's Muse 