Faster than my ribbon could flutter to the ground, this hope was washed away

Torn to sheds is the fate of those with claws,

Kiss me, kill me; give me at least one lie…

Something to believe in

-

The storm outside calls to my soul, a possession I just may trade

The whispering wind is a comfort I can feel,

More so than the shadow of a dream….

A hope I thought I lived for

-

Let it rain, pools of mirrors on the ground, drowning the ribbon to a darker shade of red….