[i][b][size=12] I'm looking through a window made of broken glass, which thus my view makes dizzy, so untrue to eyes, and see a world that's true to me but full of lies where thou once lived and left alone this poor young lass. I see a thing unknown, though seen somewhere before... Where else but in my dreams that steal my peaceful nights? Where else but in thine eyes, those hollow, distant lights? This thing I see - thy shattered world - is there no more. The dreams I've had do seem to be absurd and vile, but every night I crave and long to dream of thee, for they're the only time and place that I can see or feel thy gaze, so soft but painful, yet worth while. But no! It seems as though thou wert completely gone and banished from my mind, so long as I commence espressing words of thee, my wishes, dreams, the sense of sleepless nights - the point of dreams, I guess, is none?! What's then the thing, the painful reason we can't meet? If I can't dream of thee, if thus I have to live - I'd rather never speak again of thee, nor give the pen the force to write these things I can't defeat! [/size][/b][/i]

...Anja...