Sun yellow, bright red
the colour of her clothes...

In the wind the trees rustling
in the leaf-litter animals, hustling...

\"this poem is a continuation of one i wrote...
The pain I felt never left...

An immense maze of mirrors
Nothing is as it seems...

Deep under the earth
Through a burrowed door...

Each day an alarm brings her back to the world
She murmurs as her dreams flee her mind...

His body and mind from battle weary
He was a knight, young, brave and true...

Lips bright red, eyes painted
Every inch prepared...

The snow is cold beneath pine trees
and colder still the earth below...

I sit here alone atop a hill
I contemplate my sure place in heck...

She perches on a bridge arms stretched high
Ignoring the murmurings of passers by...

To exist in a world of non-permanent beauty
To try to make sense of it all...