I still see myself in those crowds
Standing solely,doomed and free
As Yet my eyes are on her
Still the beauty I can't see

Shall chant with her silence
Or shall dwell in her brunette eyes
The honesty she speaks or
Opt her favourite lies

Longings for Sirius and arcturus
Made her lost her own moon
Lost in nights or lost in Kafka
Might her soul insight her soon


Voice clasped in her throat
And her scars became hone
Mar on her genial heart
Turned her into fragile Stone


© yonderly