On a throne of broken dreams she sits, the queen of sadness. Her sceptre is a rotting branch, her apple is a skull. She clings to her nightmares, and hold on to death as hard as she can, because those two are the only two she can trust. She is followed by silence, people looking away,noone will talk to her, at least not today. This macabre, morbid silhouette, this crown of shattered hopes she's wearing, a chest torn open, a heart on display, that's all she is. That's all she ever was, and ever will be. She's always changing, yet she stays the same. She's a cynical dreamer, a positive doomsday's prophet.She gives you everything at first hand-shake, still you feel that she's holding back. She's a hopeless romantic, but she's also just hopeless. She's handcuffed herself to her throne, so she won't escape the pain, yet all she want is to flee.

For on a throne of broken dreams she sits...