No more can this Angel teach her,Yet, this guiding wing shall not forsake ...

He offered his love ... she could not bother,She gives her love to the other! The other!

A mask you ask? Optional I find!Masks lend appeal of a mysterious kind.

Pity that child who was born near Rouen,His only crime, to arrive deformed.

If on thoughts of death we are fed,Thus, a coffin, became my bed.

The Scorpion?The Grasshopper?Which way will she go?

If Erik existed and lived life in despair,We wish him to know we are here and we care.

True beauty lies not upon gilded veneers,But found in the soul within.

Have they known scorn like youFive cellars down?