She blows the soft smoke gently away
sitting on her windowsill, the third floor
the darkened horizon melts drowsily
leaving its mysteries to her own heart
as it is not full enough of the madness
She rises slowly with the sweet smoke
turning her head towards the mirk sky
what is there to see, in her own world
closing the eyes to travel infinitely far
as the honey is melting in the tepid tea
She throws her glass of wine away
she smiles and cries as nobody sees
the darkness, deep and cruel but sweet
as is her heart, dark, but yet so soft and kind
painful and hateful, yet so loving and forgiving
mad and crazy but so deeply understanding
Why only the crescent comprehends
only the stars listen to the quiet melody
the songs of love and pure wistfulness
she knows everything but is scared of living
as the world is not kind, instead, it is cruel
the fear, the unknown, the failure of life itself
She puts her finger in the darkened wine
and draws a line on the wall with blood
enjoying the sadness and loving to hate
She likes to be alone, alone, sweet world
You, always alone in your deeds and thought
She sees from far, a distant closeness engulfs
only art saves the heart, only beauty consoles
the crescent starts to fade slowly and softly
many of the clouds swim towards their path
covering the moon and leaving her lying
Withering away as in the mind of destruction
where everything can make a nest within itself
she lies there motionlessly, silently, calmly
listening to every sound her heart whispers to her
as the music starts to play in her head of frenzy
She lived once but not anymore, as all fades
where does this crippling melancholy lead to
the stars never wrote a script for the existence
but they gave the mind a code to decipherer
as they gave the heart a wisdom to learn from
She pours the sweet Bordeaux in front of her
gulping in sips, turning her head, staring ahead
all is sweet, all is beauty, all is art if only you see
shadow the pain and leave it intact for the truth
as the time flows between her fingers to eternity
