Her world is a lost world, where nobody lives and nobody dies. People walk around like rotten robots with empty eyes and frozen blood in their blue veins, feeding snakes and drinking their venom to stay awake. In darkened streets in the city of beautiful factories and poisonous vapour she flies with broken wings and deep wounds. Dancing in a rain of acid she colours the meadows of metal roses, a dance of insanity and loneliness.

The wind whispers false promises in her ears and brings a dense fog of danger with a substance like tar. It strikes her and surrounds her, fills her ears and makes her deaf, it closes her eyes and makes her blind, presses in through her mouth and suffocates her. Unconscious she falls to the ground, falls through the dense fog, her black hair is like a fire of dark and dead flames round her white face. She lies in the cold paving stone street in the shadows of the reeking factories, ice crystals work their way towards her eyes and around her rose red lips. Behind her unconscious appearance a feeling of sorrow and pain rules, a feeling of impotence, it lets the fog take her last thought, a thought of a deep red rose, a deep felt love, which always had to be a dream.