Barbara

A needle truth is never drawn easy, especially on this campaign, why did you gild the lily, your ice cold fish knife, is no child's game, held towards my eyes, slash of metal from the crease, chasing glory these days, is this the woman you want to be, a siren of strife, who cannot be tamed, outside fire's odyssey, they loved you at Thebes, heathens chant your name, silk and gold on wine bright sea, you crossed the Peloponnese, but things are never the same, salt in your movement on the breeze, Africa in your gaze.