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[Transcription for the Furikku impaired]
It's the Devil himself that made you- a mirror of my failure, his death in your form. You're pain, pure 'n' simple, grief with no comfort, a locked-up feast for a starvin' man. But the smell, the hope, keep me comin' back. "This time," I think, "this time, I'll save someone. I'll get a real reward, a crumb, a bite."

But it's a lie, because you ain't himm. You won't be, ever. But each time I see you, I hope. That some miracle happens, that you take off that hat and the face changes and there he is, smilin' that soft smile.

And then he dies again, and it's just you. And I remember that I'm
ALONE

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Sonia Belmont

February 2008

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