Pain etched on a face
Clear, simple and dark as her days,
A mirror of sunshine
Breaks as a smile,
Breaks like a wave,
Breaks like the hope
That I imagine is her God.

Not the one inflicted on her body,
The one justifying
The bruises on her skin and heart,
The one in whose ghastly name
She conveniently suffers.

He is not the One, love,
Come with us,
We will carry you on our backs,
You will grow wings in time,
Your pain will heal.
Let me show you the One I know above,
I will show you that prayer is not a belt,
I will teach you to sing praises
Instead of agonies,
I will show you faith,
For I was allowed to stray
In order to discover
What is lost upon your captor.

Oh, how I longed to speak out,
To wear my immodest denim pants,
To sing with my seductive female voice,
To hug his little boy,
Oh, how I longed to throw in his face
That curse which he did make
By use of my Lord's name
In frightful vain,
And then I understood that if
I,
A guest, one who could not be beat
Into compliance,
Do not dare to speak,
Then your rescue must be up to me.
For while strong and proud, poor lovely one,
You will not break your chains
And run away.