Second Life:
The truth is what I said,
for some reason you misread.
As fast as the wind twirls
around my black colored curls,
you wrote your own version,
and made the rug Persian.
No sorrow is greater than
being misunderstood again.
Ahoy! I sail the pixelated sea,
where the air is not salty but free.
A seagull over the island circles
the life under water gurgles.
Oh Siren, nymph of the sea,
sailors admire your sweet beauty,
but now the plane lies in the water;
and the truth has become your slaughter.
Yet I stay here without regret
for the truth is what I said.
`Anjelikka
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