Dear to you, the rich man,
You know the truth I speak...

I hear of all the stories,
The sadness and despair...

The "long awaited" Part II.
You belonged to him now...

Wilted petals,
Fragile frail...

Created by his art, the master,
Through the walls of alabaster...

Throw the bag upon my back,
Weigh me with an emerald sack...

I know this is long, but if you read it, I think...
Head bent low against the wind...

I hear yelling & I see your face turn to a grin
I know & I hate what is about to begin...

To think about it's one thing,
Then to relive the memory...

Here it is. Part two.
You sat upon the dampness...

So you're stuck inside your shadow,
A time of loss of life...

Part four! Finally!
All it was was innocent...