Looking out of the window, staring out in the sun,

She longs for the meaning of life…

Outside her walls,

How she longs to pluck up a flower and dine in its fragrance.

But still she sits, on her own very chair,

Afeared of her own very garden.

Should she creep off her chair?

No, she must sit, she is afraid, she’s young, she’ll have tomorrow for her garden.

Childhood is gone,

What remains?

Childhood is gone,

And youth…

Youth is what she thought is a worthless stage.

Youth, for her, is taken for granted.

Youth, to her, is her egg shell,

Youth is her screen, her barrier…

Youth is her barrier,

The barrier to the outside world,

Her wall to the flower in the garden,

A wall seperating her…

To life…

The third stanza was completely “borrowed”, in case you wonder XD

Now the second one:

Not enough space XD It’ll be on the note :p