The cruelty of men placed her within a barbed wire cage
But oh how strong she stood, so bold and so very brave
For she guards her spirit from the black hooked talon's,
And a dark murder that longs to scythe the night apart.
The men bitterly mocked her, as they cruelly fought her,
They placed a gnarled rope around her proud noble neck,
And she took what they gave her, and faced her monster,
As the cruel brothers she knew just stole her spirit away.
But… oh… Christ how bloody brightly she still now sings,
With such open blossoming spring that from shining tiers
Which wrestles here so beautiful so eternal and so bright,
That slowly glisten as they rise with an ever diamond hew.
For the cruelty of men spat and simply called her a harlot,
But they did not know of the power that she had within,
For she was honest and proud and defiant and so loud,
And the man that she dearly loved gave himself for her.
Who is she? She is the light, she is the stain; she is the song,
She is the refrain, she is the humble the woken the proud.
She is the beauty, she is the duty, she is the body so strong.
And she is all woman, and in all women… for all women are her.