I watch her shrivel
In her shell,
Everytime the sun shines:
Perhaps the darkness hides her wounds,
And the battle she fights with time.

I watch her shed
Her wings,
Quite often, while looking upon the sky:
Perhaps she wonders what lies above,
Where even the stars happen to die.

I watch her tie
Her dreams,
Like they are supposed to be,
Perhaps she enjoys the absence of joy,
.... Or the pleasure of making it last.