Bella forgot her suitcase
In a multicultural staircase
It was a very high-functional stairway
Full of pneumonia
Sickness of the trapped free souls
Had to use the library restroom on the way
Thoroughly washed her face
After deciding to abandon everything
She sang on the way
Indeed – she wanted to go and see
The cactus land from her dreams
Running to the travelling port of air
Somebody had spilled dried cranberries
All over the floor, and her hair
Resemblance came in mind
Of the red cochineal corpse
Laying dead on the ground
After just a quick flight
On the other side of the night side