a foggy figure i see,
eerily watching i deem,
as the crows rattles grow delighted,
the red crystal lays splattered,
in my dreams that i’ve sown,
a dire need i have grown
to escape from the forest,
each tree serving as memory,
who she is i may never remember,
alas, no need to fret,
for when the red lily blooms,
the clouds have already
carried her soul far,
a foggy figure i see,
you who i killed i plead.