The voice of her heart yearning to be heard,
Wise this world —
Against the utterances of her truth.
She who is destined to live:
An unseen nightingale who weeps for verity.
World decoys— to suppress her hope;
Lug her soul to nothingness.
She became a hidden menace,
Smiling for this plot of existence.
She was no hero to rise from the ashes,
A monster as the world would name her,
A merciless apathetic doom: that
The world was not alive to listen to.
So the heart healed: to kill the hoaxes,
Among the morales that stood mirthless.
She the unknown soul, so lost
Pens the unseen: the destiny of her soul.