On a day the east wind blows,
The fair unicorn miss wanders through the barren coral ground,
Not as much as her mortalism shows,
And the sounds,
The Sounds,
The nothing sounds,
Play in her head.
Your not human says the grinning water snake,
And the unicorn miss swims deeper into a blackened nothing,
The coldness nearly kills her as she begins to shake,
And the sounds,
the nothing sounds,
Play in her head.
When she bore of the cold she traveled to the surface world,
Humans stared at the queer Unicorn miss as she cried in distress,
Those sounds of non-humanity haunts me,
she called drearily,
As the freak show beings tossed pollutants at her head,
And The sounds,
the nothing sounds,
Play in her head.
We'll watch the flames get higher she sought,
The unicorn miss who wearily lay on a stone,
Never to be mortal,
Never for the sounds to stop,
And the sounds,
The nothing sounds,
Play in her head, still.
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