Behind shuttered windows of her mind,
A spent candle that once burned bright...

I created a world of nothing,
To escape this plane of reality...

From an unforgiving sky one day,
The choking dust blew on its way...

The devil mocked,
You won't survive the storm...

A little breath of scandal,
And a pair of eager ears...

Sorrowful trees,
Sallow and Yew...

I add a little bit of nonsense,
That has been finely ground...

A little more give,
A little less take...

I can be the first.
I can be the last...

I came to this city filled with self pity,
For my friends were all far away...

A tall white Birch reared its stately form,
High in the path of the oncoming storm...

One needs to be fruitcake,
Truth be told a complete loon...