The Future, she fears
Torn between two worlds
The present and the past
The only escape is yet to come.
Her mind, she fears
and her beautiful soul stays confined
She walks down the halls
Thinking to herself
Of the life that she could have had
Her head hangs low
And the tears, they fall
Born in her eyes
Only to die on her lips
The most precious of precious
The door swings open
Her feet shuffle outside through the snow
Under a tree, she sits
She lets her mind drift
To a state of cold, dark, melancholy
Oh, the sweet melancholy

 
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