When scars are met with deeper wounds.
Crimson lava pours off her head.
What hurts the most is the same that mends.
her guilt was the tears she once shed.

The saviour owns the whips,
he adds to her body more scorges,
and with his sweet lips,
platonic innocent love he forges.

Courageously, she challenges the sun.
With her eyes she enslaves nature.
Sometimes it's bright, others it's dun,
especially on her departure.

Her life is a forest that always rains,
not close to a neoclassical garden.
In her absence nothing remains,
for she is one of a kind maiden.

When scars are met with deeper wounds.
Crimson lava pours off her head.
What hurts the most is the same that mends.
Her guilt was the tears she once shed.

The saviour owns the whips,
he adds to her body more scorges,
and with his sweet lips,
platonic innocent love he forges.