Slowly I awake, lost and forlorn.
Time keeps fading, but no one seems
To have time for me.
I count the hopeless seconds, seconds turning into minutes,
Into hours, days, weeks, years, centuries...
I wish I Could be loved for who I am,
Not as someone I pretend to be.
As the first of sunlight
free her from a devilish and restless sleep,
her dark thoughts flow through her pen
and onto the paper.
It must be the fate os a dreamer...