You are gone
gone, gone....
and I grew
wings on my back;
Swan's wings.
and I flew
breaking the air.
I scratched the
sky and plastic
blood glued my wings.
And I walked over the
space following  the
rainbow 'till its end.
The fairy was dead
stuffed by his own
golden pot, a few
dead coins coming out
of his ears and I knew
you were there.
I was on your tracks
because you were
gone, gone , gone....
like orchids in winter.
a trace of silver nails
stained with blood were
my guide to the path of death.
Your death, my death.
I flew, and flew, and flew
with my heavy plastic wings
until the sun burned me.
and I fell, I fell, fell, fell
down to earth -- a tiny trace of
salt and ashes.