see her in a field of flowers
falls into the sky
blades of grass shoot through her silhouette
and the marionettes dance high

wind pushes poison roses
past oxygen and carbon dioxide
the forest of origin where they gather
has lately begun to wither

how can one lose
what was never there
what was never real
except in here

roads come from violins
walls from guitars
snakes are drawn to the misty grounds
she is painted on the sky

portals may rise again
but ways back are gone
someone collected them
before the evening was done

how can one lose
what was never there
what was never real
except in here

who knows
i might stay