Someplace where the wind takes away this hour

Of sheltered symphonies and rugged lies,

She will travel under the cool bridge

In which the trolls of light and dark

Stand in stony silence

Fixing the flowing river in its rant

Against humanity.

And only there will her wisdom thrive;

And only there will the spaces

Between here and there be filled with

Hardships of heathen crosses.

To the left is the river, a corpse

Landing to the raging emotions of grief,

Tears of a lonely prince who had lost

His only love to a penniless beggar on the way

To a drunken disco.

And before her, on a tragic traverse

To the Garden of Eden,

Her mother stands waiting for her

To show up again.