Daphne

In the forest deep and dark, Daphne roamed with an arcane spark, A sorceress with a wild heart, Her beauty shrouded in mystery and art. Love, to her, was but a curse, She refused it, she would immerse, Herself in magic and the occult, A power that made her exult. But fate had other plans in store, For love's arrow pierced her core, A golden bolt that made her run, From the obsessive love of the sun. She cried out to the heavens above, To prevent her from falling in love, And the gods answered her plea, With a transformation to a tree. Now a laurel, tall and proud, A symbol of her freedom, never bowed, And Apollo still loves her true, For even as a tree, she's his muse.