Weeping willows hide the child, that sees beyond this time. Veils and shadows taking shape, within the forefront of her mind.

Her hair is in disarray, she's just woke up from rest. Darkness all around her, heart beat quickens inside her chest.

She lifts her voice to the darkness, and sings to fill it with light. Bursting colors stream forth, pushing back the night.

Home she can't remember, it's begun to fade away. Like erupting colors, the sunrise brings each day.

Clutching her doll to her chest the trees soothe her with song. Wind blows through her hair, and passes hope along.

She is the child of morning, a sign for better days to come. Shining in her innocence, to beckon the rising sun.