She wakes before the rooster crows at dawn
Her bare feet touch the weathered wooden floor
She braids her hair with ribbons worn and torn
Then helps her mother with the morning chores
The garden needs her gentle, caring hands
She picks the vegetables from fertile lands
Her smile is soft, her manner always meek
A perfect daughter, humble and so sweet
At Sunday mass she sits with folded hands
Her prayers are whispered like a summer breeze
She helps the elderly throughout the lands
And never asks for payment or for fees
Her schoolwork done with careful, neat precision
Each letter formed with quiet dedication
The neighbors praise her kindness and her grace
This angel child with such an innocent face
Behind her eyes
A secret lies
In shadows deep
Where darkness sleeps
Sweet girl, kind girl
So pure, so sure
Nothing wrong
In this peaceful song
Gentle heart
Plays her part
Always true
Skies so blue
Perfect child
Nature's gift so mild
Her room is small but tidy as can be
With dolls arranged in perfect, silent rows
She tends to them with loving care so free
And dresses them in tiny, matching clothes
Her little brother watches from the door
He trusts her with his treasures more and more
She reads to him from storybooks at night
Her voice a lullaby in candlelight
But in her drawer
Something more
Waits unseen
Dark and keen
Sweet girl, kind girl...
The leather book calls out to her alone
Its pages filled with secrets dark and strange
The words appear in scripts to her unknown
Yet somehow speak of power, pain, and change
She reads of ways to make the silent scream
Of tiny hurts that feed her hidden dream
The pins slide in like whispers in the night
While porcelain faces twist in silent fright
The fire burns
Her hunger yearns
For something more
Than what's before
Dark girl, wild girl
Not pure, not sure
Something's wrong
In this twisted song
Broken heart
Plays new part
What is true?
Skies now blue?
Whose small child
Lies there broken, defiled?
Whose small child
Lies there broken, defiled?
