Hiding in a night
Cracked like glass...

No more glass
Through which we view...

So I have bled for you
You who do not care...

A fairy tale for forgotten children
The story teller tending a dying flame...

As another sun rises
On another broken daughter...

I form these words
Beneath oceans...

If I were an ocelot
I'd spend my days catching flies...

I don't see you
Because you don't exist...

From this hillside
Covered in carnivorous roses...

Disconcerting conversations
The Gypsy works his disabled tongue...

I have met some beautiful people
Who have walked the same paths I've walked...

There is a man, no-one has seen
Whose eyes are a sickly shade of green...