.
.

Comes  from the midnight
Scream

In the alley

The yellow street light lamp

Shining daggers

The country nun  was

Silently moving

In the shadows

:::

Sweet oh sweet

Is my lady

••

Police car sirens

The mood is deadly

We bring to safety

All we can carry

All immigrants

To the country

Of saintliness

•

Sweet touch

Yes

It is she

Holy mother

She loves all

Anyone may love her

In the scresms from the hungry alley

You can always find her there