Her Name is Alice

The clock ticks on the wall,
out of sync with the dripping shower.
My hands ache from my
relentless death grip on the
Wheel of Fate.
Cracked, bruised, scarred
My flesh mirrors the map in the stars.

Heartbreak after heartbreak
and the Zecoran winds blow.
The stars fall from the sky
and nothing is what it seems.

My resources are exhausted
my body in pieces, my soul
scattered across sand and seas.
I want to be home
and my friends to visit me...
but a heart tainted
with as much sadness as mine
stains the glass between us.