Like fragments of broken glass, we are,

Like fragments of broken glass, we are,
The deep dark devil, itself, we are,

‘Cause when you’re staring into the void, and waiting for it to come,
Such a pity, the moment never really comes.

My life flashes in front of my eye,
And a memory or a ghost just passes by.

Then something comes, that I cannot bear,
A gentle whisper, in my ear.

Is this for real, is this a dream?
Or had you really forgotten that “beautiful green”?

-By a girl who once was “green".