Calm and quiet, in her own;
Drops of water into unknown.
Is it mist or is it dew?
Comprehending her very few.
Does it move or is it still?
Her father wonders is this his till.
Why no merry when so young,
Join the chorus and be one in sung?
Remembers he of that dark night,
Like a shadow what he sight,
Sadness deep still making him fright,
How can his daughter be all right?
The knock was long and earnest,
The sound of the coming tempest.
In a matter of moments they were charmed,
In those times of chaos all balmed.
A small sacrifice is what he said,
His only son from his first wed.
Her brother whom she has for cared,
How can he be fed to the dragon bared?
Yet they knew that  nothing cam be done,
For lives of many there is death for some.
As he dragged the boy from his hair,
Laying the essence of undying love bare.
Little did one know, the day she made that shell,
It would end it all as it grows and swell.
Living with his loss she went mute,
Ready to unleash the force so brute.
Death can take the young and mare,
Yet she would defeat it as loss has its share.