viagem medieval, em terra de Santa Maria

she lives the dream like no one does, to escape herself. she gets more into that than what you could ever imagine. she walks and hears the music and talks. she runs cause there's a carriage coming. she bows to the king with a smile on her face while she finds herself saying your Majesty. what could she ask, does it matter how sad the world is outside? she's not there, she's far away, in a place she likes herself, in a place she can dream with heroes. though, they don't understand, and they don't need, cause no one could give her something better than that, better than walking through the village hearing the music, and the horses, and the soldiers and the people.