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it is the feeling i get, when i listen to many a one of my favourite songs; http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Xf-Lesrkuc
incomparable to the previous yet seems just like the last;
painting of a red sash on my face background is some time i knew;
of wanting, wondering waiting and faithing of things unseen things untold of dams and mist.
must be something; somewhere between Jupiter and Earth; maybe lying on one of the beauty rings.
was young and untouched pure and free;
Spirit rose up above before height could reach.
In a blue dress, my hair flew across the clean and soft winds,
then she vanished and so did i, i have no memories all left untold.
the stick was my skins best friend, everyday we knew one another.
Botched and bleached her spirit dies,
as early as seven oh well she is gone.
she trades and wades on walls unfinished, on water kissing her heels is great feeling.
her thoughts are blank and dark as evening, yet home to go she must return.
he shouts and shrieks as if in injury; the only one in injury is her poor young soul.
Joy comforts in night of full moon light; they sit and howl the night till dusk.
to school she is off her best is at bay; yet quite is she and draws her to close.
her clothes are torn but that is not all; the stench is unbecoming you better keep your range.
the still little voice urges on she must; today this life to end it we shall.
And two decades a third later, she stands strong yet in passive nature.
she wills, and fights and gnaws at her, did not all the rest do the same to her?
of justified truths and snares from them, she felt left out but now she stands out.
to end this we must confront her; through wisdom and those words left unsaid.
Everything is on Enya’s lips, its a cold war Janelle reminds.
that intense feeling i get when i listen to my violin sound; still she remembers of days untold.
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