Eyes of Diamond

Her eyes were like streetlights
her soul an abundance of innocence
as she walked alone that night,
a night when the darkness seemed
to shatter all hope of light and brilliance.
It was there she moved
so lonesome through the city,
where despite how crowded they were,
the streets were as barren as a desert,
the people merely ghosts
travelling between two very unreal worlds.

As she drifted down the slums,
full of neon sex and smoking doorways,
she found a most peculiar sign.
Well, it seemed like a sign,
a small scrap of canvas,
with oil pastel on one side
making out part of what must have been
a brilliant work of art,
and the other side
scribbled an assortment of numbers and letters
all backwards and upside down,
seeming like a silent omen
calling her to a time and a place...