foreign forest

Jane Duboc

We?re in the foreign forest
Where all the paths divide
Oh, how to look at trees
When plants and flowers
Are altered by the breeze

A faint perfume
The sound of fountains
We?re half awake in our sleep
We hold our hands
Together, quiet and mute
Feeling the breath of dawn on us

Without hope or desire
We feel alive inside
Oh, how to want to leave
When all the paths will only
Get out of here