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These streets are no place
To hide, they are too bright
And far too wide
And all the houses here beside
The doors too narrow
For our stride

In caves forgotten we may
Yet dwell, I knew them once
So very well, all of the tales
A child could tell, this way to heaven
This way to hell

My heart sees shelter in
The gloom, I cry by night and
Bow to moon, and should my flowers
Too quickly bloom, my soul is wasted
Far too soon

And should my flowers
Too quickly bloom, my soul is wasted
Far too soon

© Helen Valentina 2015, All Rights Reserved