The poor helpless child
Unable to bear a smile
Tears run down elegant cheeks
Her heart longing to speak
Sorrow is her destiny
Engulfed by jealousy
Her soul stuck in her own lament
Her soul so broken and bent
"Stop it!" She cries
Nevertheless, she is her own demise
Nothing is ever free
Her end is destined to be
Help is what she desires
But already gave in to the liars
Her soul once like a festoon
But taken away by the Crimson Moon.