Painted Lips Poem by Dana Korneisel

Strawberry White, Strawberry White,
strawberry white painted lips
Somewhere inside, somewhere inside,
somewhere inside t'dark wood ship

Carrying her, carrying her,
Oblivion churns at her name,
Still she was rights, still she was right,
still she was right all the same.

Why don't you cry, why don't you cry,
Why don't you cry, stricken maid?
Do you still think that eyes will run dry
when oblivion takes on your name?