Where have all the forests gone?
Hope is losing, eyes are drawn...

Where could it have gone?
It's something everyday...

Writing is where I purge,
Whether good or bad...

My hair must be just so,
Clothes, just check the tags...

In a grassy tomb it lays
Worn by age...

Cut to the bone,
Drowning in rage...

Everyday I try my best,
To walk a steady road...

No one needs to know,
The hurt I feel inside...

Your lips burn like the sun,
Kissing my skin with fire...

If you never leave the surface,
You won't see what's below...

I have found your secret hideaway,
And I hope to never leave...

Never such a touch have I known,
So sweet...