Trying to escape the labyrinth that is her mind,
A way out she tries to find.
Through the thorns with roses on top,
All those things which make her stop.
To get away is all she wants,
Yet the memory still haunts.
It follows her like a shadow,
Yet she hides high and low.
As much as she wants to get away,
She still tries to stand and stay.
Stopping again, looking back,
Of the way she lost track.
And when the rays of the sun,
Hit her; she couldn’t hide, couldn’t run.
Today still there she stands,
Looking back at the sands.
The sands of time have come to pass,
That young, beautiful, sprightly lass.
A statue of her is all that remains,
Looking back at the terrains.
From where she tried so hard to escape,
From the world her miseries draped.