These cobwebs around him represent the new,
And the old is symbolized by the same plain color...
I know what I feel like;
I'd like to be you...
Oh baby I know it hurts
But please ignore the red...
They say you have wings of the purest of gold
But these antics and facades are getting old...
I awoke from this sub reality when I saw my eyes,
So big and dominating the landscape of my face...
How to explain Present Hope is still something
Not yet comprehensible to me...
Even prevalent in the darkest confines of me,
I find what I would like to call Present Hope...
Ebony voices sculpted my hands
until I was clutching cold metal...
Bring to me,
a bouquet of black roses...
Poem cello wake
a woman who has never loved...
Covered by smoke
Lost in the maze...
The red queen rules violently over her kingdom
Well the smiling cat disappears behind a tree...