There was a woman
Aching in sorrow
floating on the sand
thinking of tomorrow
Moseying around the cold corridor
apart from splendour,
Eyeing vigorously through the bleak space
trapped in endless maze
'Miss, dead is on the way.
Miss, dead is on his way.
Miss, dead knows all your ways.
Miss, dead's the fastest way.'
In vain, she was heard screaming
'Enough! All my amulet,
all my dignity...
Hell wouldn't resolve
when you know the taste of a brothel.'
She collided, collapsed and choked
with tears
without remorse
The grin was still on her face.