[Edna.]: 246.Untitled

She flies over the hill
Where the wind blows all around her but still
She thinks of the bloodred moon
Where a teardrop will fall down very soon
She flies like a falk through the green green night
She thinks of drops of blue from an eagle's flight
She watches the frostbitten tree
The bushes made a circle, only to set it free
She flies to the white beach
Where she the stars can reach
She flies to the bloodred moon
Where she'll cry a tear very soon