The Strange Land Of The East.

She was only in her twenties when she felt the call from the East

Falling walls, technology booming, this was what she named a treat

Towards the East and rucksack loaded, she decided to flee

A life of monotony, overprotection, too much honey from the bees.

Once the plane landed there, a smell of fresh ink lit her senses

Buildings of moist stone that unhandcuffed her recklessness

Forgotten was her old self, a new woman inside her boomed

Twenty years of adventures, human and bird kind blended.

There she lost her hearing, but was granted psychic gifts

There she learnt how Money talks, how expensive oxygen is

She also discovered the immortality of her soul

A light of Hope, permanently lit.

An accident erased her memory

But her essence remained virgin

A new identity she picked, the artist with no senses

Appreciation of strangeness and back she was, to square one

Writing lyrics, though she was deaf,

Success came by and so did independence.

The End.