Porcelain skin maiden of the mist,
floating above the world;
Looking down upon its beings,
tormented little girl.
The sadness in her heart seeping through her eyes,
falls tonight to earth;
And rains upon the vermin,
that inhabit this pile of dirt.

Her light from within, that shines on the scum,
fades slowly to ash;
As she searches,
for the part of her,
that remains free from the trap;
Of this drug-induced, hallucinogenic reality.

And the selfish joker watches,
and plots in his grave,
for ways to burn the world,
set fireworks ablaze;
For while they rant and rave,
and dance and prance about,
she may see them and smile,
and sing her heart out.

For in her happiness
lies the drug,
that may erase his scars,
and help him fall asleep,
in a pool of his blood,
underneath the stars.

By: Viraj Belgaonkar