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Topsy-turvy World
May 6, 2008
Shaken, stirred
and running fast
slipping through the looking glass
[Spirals]
Dark and down it goes
What she'll find there no one knows
Small and weak
she waits and hides
clawing at the monster's binds
She tips and toes
'round shrieks and scares
avoiding all their blood red stares
Eyes that bite
and souls that steal
fueling all that vengeful zeal
Her heart, it pines
it pleads and yearns
for the freedom this looking glass spurns
Will she choose them?
Sit and brood
how her story ends, you conclude.
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