Stockholm
People spoke of hell as a place of bright fires and flickers
But she could say that hell was black and white
Black and with white walls
Black and white clothes
Even black and white land
In this place where the sun never touched
Black and white
Black and white
Black and white
Colors could drive one mad
Then he walks in
With his black hair and pale skin
Clothes of black and white as well
But she looked forward to him so
For his pair of forest eyes
Eyes that held no emotion but so much color
As he strode into her cell
She place those eyes with their flecks of hunter and halcyon into her memory
He never says more than a few orders for her to follow
Then turns his back and leaves
She waits with baited breath for her color to return
