she crawls slowly through the mist
in the forest of demise
where the dark paths turn and twist
hidden from the open skies

where secret screams exist
going there would be unwise
the lips of pain are gently kissed
as another victim cries

if you find yourself in her midst
never look into her eyes
pretend she doesn't exist
don't be the next who dies

it is too late for tasks
said he
thus causing me
to question my reason my being
I  wonder
who I could be
if not for problems and solutions
or if tasks should end before I do