Within defiled waters
Shedding raven tears
Alive through tainted blood
What else could one fear
Carrying a cerulean heart
Wielding neither sword nor bow
Wearing arrows and daggers
Dancing amidst the fiery snow
With eyes of burning crimson
Soul as calm as the stormy sea
With unwavering courage and hope
Enough to make the mountains flee
She spoke with a voice, that of a child
A child of war, a child who is king
Making the skies and stars tremble
Statues weep, and the forests sing
Ominous but casts no shadow
Harmless with menace as counterpart
She was the musician, the writer and the artist
As she was the song, the lines and the art