• Singing her praises, of times lost long ago.
    A wanderer, a nomad, a nobody.
    But, still, she sings on,
    the wind her only harmony.

    Sunshine casts the shadows on her young face,
    Shadows showing her darker side, the one that does not sing.
    The trees shelter her body, her only possession in the world.
    Her song haunts those who hear it's words.

    But she is deaf to her own demise.
    As she sings her melody turns from praise to scorn.
    And angry words tumble from her petite mouth.
    The nobody reveals her hidden past.

    Of anger, pain, and lies.
    Her song is no longer sunny and light,
    but sinister in the darkness.
    Her shadow side has broken through.

    And now she howls her mournful song,
    and tears are now her melody.
    The wind is a lost friend,
    The shadows engulf her once more.