The Painted Lady called the Sorceress,
played Gypsy Music and flung Gold Dust...

A canvas sits untouched, unveiled
lonely and forgotten, memories fade...

There lies a small island
With dips of fairy dew...

I walked miles in the darkness
black like ravens...

I have elegance and charm.
I am naturally kind, very gentle...

I was nestled so
comfortably...

She sat on the bench letting the breeze flow by,
Her hair swept away like a feather in the sky...

Way back when,
I was a child...

A petite old women lived in
the country alone...

On top the building he sat.
Waiting, Watching for the...

The room is dark
it has a musky smell...

Sitting in the dark
with the fan lightly...