Once upon a morning day
when doe rests upon the tawny grass,
a girl with as light as grey
and skin as bronze as brass,
was born into this dark, dank world.

Unaware was she
of the dank, musty odour
that comes from he
who killed me.

Amongst the dead lay a lady.
Lips frozen in a last laugh,
hair locked in a wave of sunlight,
heart stopped from beating.
Death embraced
as though a friend lost an age ago.

Found again a friend indeed.
Found in air,
embraced by cloud,
killed by death,
awakened by love.

by Mieke