Angela: When you're listening to music, anything can happen. This was one of those times. Normal disclaimers apply.

"With a young girl
Long ago I once walked
To see the things of
Which she talked.
A man of mad hats,
A strange Cheshire Cat,
Living cards
And a White Rabbit.
A long walk for sure,
But we made it back
Then I had to go,
And saw her nevermore,
But till on my deathbed I did see
Her staring down at me."

Slightly messy white hair fell into his face as he slept, a brand new book clutched in his hand. A young woman with a gentle smile tucked the comforter under his chin and kissed his cheek, murmuring, "Good night my dear son. Dream of faeries and angels tonight." Then she was gone. With a sleepy smile, he snuggled closer in the blankets.

Each night was the same, she would read to him from the book and tuck his sleeping form in for the night. The shiny new book became worn and dull from use. And always, when she reached the end she closed it and asked which book she was to read the next night. He answer never changed, "Please Mother! Read Alice in Wonderland again tomorrow night! I love it so." She would laugh and he would beg until she agreed. He would sleep then, dreaming of Cheshire Cats and White Rabbits.

But tradegy struck.

The double funeral was somber, and the boy could only watch in silence as his sister and beloved mother were buried under the dirt.

His father read to him now, but it was not the same. The Ring he'd worn for the past year now slowly came to live, absorbing his pain and tears, sending him nightmares in his sleep as it pulsed each night. Finally the boy was left alone, but he didn't care. As long as he had his Alice, he was alright.

Innocence had lost its white shine, faded to a murky grey. Even Alice and her magic tale became colorless to him, an empty shell of a previous life. Soon all was dark for the poor boy.

It was then that I was released. And I was no friend to my Hikari. His life became Hell, courtesy of me. But the idiot boy kept holding onto his hope, his stupid, precious Alice.

I had to break him, make him mine. I had to taint the last of his innocence, destroy the remains of a tattered soul.

I took from him his beloved Alice. I took her away, and with it the memories of his mother. And I burned them in front of his very eyes. Made him watch, as his last ray of sunshine was turned to ashes. And when he cried, I could only laugh. Because I am a Yami, I thrive on his anguish. And sooner or later he would have had to say goodbye, Alice in Wonderland.

I only made it sooner.

"And as I lay about to die,
I could only say
Goodbye Alice in Wonderland.

The end. The poem is in fact mine, I wrote it. No stealing it.