nocturnal times have come, sweeping down upon my girl, she lay's in dream zone winter land, where time is
frozen and only the ghosts of future memories visit.
she knows nothing of this, her dreams are the cotton wooly images of infancy, safe and soothing, like a mothers hands upon a child in cot, touching the surface of skin lightly, just enough to not know. 
above her head, some halo shimmers, cast there by her pure intent for when she wakes she will be lost and the band of light begone.