Follow the green line with your finger
When you see a hole push in as hard as you can
Your mess will become more clear
With obstinate danger prevailing.
She toys with what she does not know
Forsaking all those who have come before
Only a glimpse into her past would tell you
She is lucky to be as sane as she is.
I met a woman along my trek
She was lean and never ate
I wondered how she stayed alive so long without nutrition
She said she feeds herself on souls of those that cry.
I swore off debauchery as too simple
Wanted to get a run in for diplomacy
But nobody could tell me what that meant.
We write with pens made of a finger bone
Use blood from the nearest virgin we can find
Sometimes that takes us days.