Even deceased I’ll haunt you
Beneath my queenly crown
All the living left
Would run - Go Hide, and Frown
Every Century Waning
Every Where I Go
Every Time What’s Left
Heaving Body, To and Fro
So the living wander?
This Is My Castle Still
Go! (The living left)
And So, I Am Hallowed,
Still
She went outside, rummaging in her thoughts for what used to feel like clarity. Everything was so foggy now. She plopped down under the tree, and a few branches dropped beside her. Not heavy ones, to hurt her, but small dying ones. She bent forward to look at them. 'Arranged in a pattern,' she mused to herself. 'Almost like a language.'
