Priceless Princess Prints…

A high ceiling room … she lay on the back, eyes lost in the space above...

She is all alone to face the visages parading the walk of memory...

They have been thousand drumming at her door and the sound still echoes...

A high ceiling mind giving space to those hunters hanging at her soul...

And she draws them as many colourful arabesques on the canvas...

Life is a dream and she floats like the boat sails the wild waters...

A high ceiling fear she called heaven before to hear what heaven sings...

Before to see what heaven can print on her face...

When night falls down and silence fills her domain...

A high ceiling musing at her fantasy adjusted...

Just to make of this life nothing more than a holy scene...

And a mark on the endless book of the eternity...

A high ceiling room in turn heaven or hell...

Depending on who comes ringing at her mind...

Depending on how strong is her faith...

A high ceiling consciousness above the city's humming...

When all believers invoke God for a shelter...

As she knows it should be vain to pray with them...

A high ceiling loneliness so much deeply a soul is hard to fill...

When night enlightens the sleepless time...

And filled is the day of blinding realities...

A high ceiling life with two gauge levels...

One is the first and there, all is lies and rawness...

One is the second level where all is reversed...

And the Priceless Princess prints on the walls

Coloured pictures of her good or bad dreams,

As to flee by taking steps on the rainbow out of the rain...