A misty breeze,
Tall, twin talking trees
A little girl screams,
"There are two, but one is not me,"
Death knocks on her door,
While blood drips all on the floor
Collected and painted a self-portrait
Darkness comes, it's midnight
It is raining, you are in a storm on a flight,
Going nowhere, going home
The bed sheets are still wrinkled and cold
Still I wonder about the girl in the sky,
The one in my heart who flies high
She runs, she disappears, on a cloud she rides
My princess of darkness and bearer of light
You give and then you take, it's wrong, but you are right
From nature you replicate again and again
Then it begins, just as the story ends