Show me something unfamiliar to conceive,
give me a direction to follow, and I would leave.
I can't forget about my so called tolerence,
for I have little to spend on all their ignorance.
This waking dream, spreading more as time goes by,
the answers losing meaning, yet no one wonders why.
I know the way out, but she still holds the pass,
the fragile being, created from shards of glass.
Like a maiden forged from iron, guarding what belongs,
meant to decieve the weak, and destroy the strong.
A great feeling of lost love surrounds this place,
and the beautiful no one, with tears on her face.
The broken hearted, sympathetic one that they forgot,
she's like an angel, but she claims she's not..
Every time I think of this beautiful being,
I lose my perception, and forget what I'm seeing.
She's just so very beautiful in so many ways,
to talk with her, theres just no perfect phrase.
I don't think anybody is as extraordinary as she,
even though I know she would probably disagree.
