I live here,
a place away from joy and fear...

Brought by your doubt,
I come in my looming shadow...

Trampling down the brush,
I run swiftly through the lush forest...

I live underground,
beneath the soil I trod...

The dirt crumbles beneath my fingers,
as I scrape away the solid ground...

Walk a mile in another’s shoes,
the saying carried through generations...

a child’s curiosity,
an image of comical proposition...

Close your eyes,
don’t let go...

Floating in water,
sits one single child...

One child,
Quiet does she sleep...

Dead but not dead,
back from utopia...

The woman smiles,
her hidden disguise...