Small child so innocent is she,
Breathing vivacity.
To all in mind and voice akin,
Flitting Saffron wings.
No fear, nor war. Helios good reign.
In oblivion, sing.
Till Nortus dooming plague befalls-
Hail maims Saffron frail wings.
In clamor did lurk Black spiders,
Hands made for youth seizing.
Hoisted to their living Hell,
Trembling Saffron vain wings.
Writhing without relief – their mass.
Lusting the good to scream.
Monody chants, greedy claws rip,
Red, once Saffron – slashed wings.
Away is all! Vulnerable.
Death in the hour beats.
And she is doomed as 'fore rebirth...
Downfall – Saffron, her wings.
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