Esmeralda

Esmeralda with the gold in her hair

a fair maiden, running down the neon streets
in a flowing dress made of black things

bullets like wasps follow her
down the dark alleyways
corner to corner and shadow to shade
she evades and makes her way

and no one sees the secret smile on her face

Oh how lucky you have been to see her in the twilight
in the reflections of the skyscrapers
in the moonlight

she tends to hide under the clouds of dusk
im the metal city,  full of dust

and yet the smoke and the diesel and the fumes and the lights
make her so happy she could possibly cry

Esmeralda
Esmeralda with the golden hair