Drowned in deep sadness, bathed in sea of despair, Struggles to trust her faith, accepts her loss, Fights to live her life, nurtures her hope, Sacred spirit, take her hand, guide her to a safe shore, For her Soul knows it all, her whole, her call.

Her sprouted Soul eternally grows, Her pathways manifest for them to follow, Resiliently she struggles upstream as she flows, Humbly she enlightens, inspires them all, fans and foes, Oh sacred spirit, guard her ways for she is our strength, our sole hope.

A lonesome Soul, searches for her call, Light sparkles over her life’s journey on the rise, Deceitful “helpers,” oh yes, they know it all, Never will she please them, nor fulfill nattered yearnings, For it is her life’s journey, only she bears the toll.

And the crowd roars, worshiping the hero , Above she stands erect , her gaze piercing lost souls , And the crowd bows , obeys the idol , Behold, she rises , her voice thunderously falls , And the crowd howls, swords and arrows , “Peace!” Her bleeding heart sheds hidden sorrow.