Screeching light of the moon pierced every molecule of her brittle constitution,
as she lay in the dungeon for someone to save her from this unreal devotion
“This night is going to be long and fierce” the wind murmured in hervear,
Within she dared to break free and grow out of every dark fear
The might getting mightier stealing eggs of gold from the worldly nest
The woe of the bitter morning seemed like a punished protest
The whistling pines warn her of dangers running as wild as this child of nature,
none could withstand the anguish and brutality of this damned stature
They freed every prisoner, overthrew kings queens and jacks
Most of the with frozen smiles and knifes behind there back
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