Everytime I see her
She’s far away
Maybe I should go talk to her
Maybe I should stay
Out of reach
My fingers turn to clay
They freeze in the night
And they burn in the day
They are nothing
Waiting to be molded by her
No
I can’t
She is surrounded by knights
What she wants is steel
Im a mere peasant
At the bottom of the hill
Looking up at her
I imagine her voice soothes
Harmonic like a flute
But I can’t hear
I’m a bystander
Watching a movie on mute
Everytime she talks
It’s to someone else
I see her cherry lips moving
Motions I felt
Words of fire
that could bring ice to melt
She is a silhouette
A shadow
Dancing in the back of my mind
As I wonder what it would take
To make her mine