„It‘s just me and the horizon again.
Whenever I have those words for you, I bring them here.
I bring them out on an open field, and leave them with the horizon,
hoping for them to reach you.
And together we wait
For a shooting star,
A rainbow,
A thunder storm.
All of these words that are yours,
All of these words that you own,
Are going to reach you some day.
I prepared these words for you,
although you never asked for it.
Some day they‘ll reach you.
There‘s not a world without a you and me.
There‘s not a universe without my words reaching you.
There’ll be a shooting star,
A rainbow,
A thunder storm.
Maybe, they will reach you in a song,
Or a poem.
Or maybe in a story.
In one of those tales that we keep telling.
In one of those dark and twisted tales,
That can tickle tears,
Turn the stomach upside down,
That are too dark, bloody and cruel
Those tales that we tell each other over and over again,
because if we stopped,
it would have been for nothing.
That is why I bring them here,
my words.
Out on an open field.
Hoping for a shooting star,
Hoping for a rainbow,
Or a thunder storm,
For the faintest purple at the edge of the world.
If I don‘t,
what was my tongue even made for?
Why do I have lips?
A breath in my chest?
Why are there thoughts in my head?
My words have to reach you,
and I‘m sure they will.”
Mistress witch writes 