little girl you wander through my thoughts.

i have three pots on my desk..
liquid is running amongst them three...
like an old pretty melody..
sounds are wasted in our minds..
have you ever noticed the treasures of the silence..
little girl walks by with steps oh down so high..
one again her feet shall step and stone there fall it will be left..
she sees the pots along my desk..
and wonders where she is and asks the rest..
they don't appear and shes alone..
like wicked eyes she glares at them..
and looks at me and ponders yet..
"what this i take oh great big man"..
"can i acquire a pot for one?"..
i try and think to what avail will she become..
so small and evil i lost my sight..
it fears me so and i hold tight..
i take another look and shes again there...
glazing upon my eyes her face is snowy white..
her eyes are different..yet colorless both..
everything is my fault..
for opening the gate...and caught this soul with all its might..
she settles and sits within one pot..
happy she seems with smile in her sandy face..
she will be my companion in the nights..
when cold and lonely roads outside are too harsh..
and bitter drinks cant blow away old memories..
i love her for that and that i swear..
that old girl shes my pot friend..
growing up inside of me i take her smile and bring her color in her eyes..
we are together and this is not the end..
because time will come for me and you..
and light again shall turn to blue..
the moon will fade and we shall kiss..
and small fireflies will reign the sky..
these words i will not hear tonight..