Upon her work table there is a box
wiith needles and thread and a rusty lock
...
Cold hands grab me from bellow
pulling, clawing, tearing at my soul.
...
Upon this mound of books I stand.
A Queen of the grandest land.
...
He roams the earth by moons pale light
A hunter in the dark of night
...
For my dearest Valentine
To you I give this heart of mine.
...
The icy water is at my back,
there are Lillies in my hair.
...