A maiden's lace is her steel. Her ribbons are chains. Her hat is her helmet, and she surreptitiously changes the blood that flows from her wounds into true rose petals.... You are a noble being that no one may touch... Yes, the ideal aristocratic maiden, in my imagination, is very much like you... Say, I can see wings on your back - wings, with the luster of velvet. Please keep flying freely, without fear.

Prosper and bloom,
without ever hurrying towards your fall

Hi, Miss Alice
What kind of dreams do you see
with your eyes of glass?
Do they fascinate you?

Believing in things you cannot see
Even with my trembling arms
I want to protect someone dear to me
The place my thought that proggressed
up to now struggle on to
To see hopes
Even in a black, confined world