Beware, dearest daughter,

beware of the silent ones

the beautiful ones

for now,they are all but whispers

tempered within the edifice of time



Beware,dearest daughter

for they are far less merciful than I



Even in death, my spirit cries out to her

weeping for the youth that was raped

the innocence that was defiled

her pale, child-like, porcelain face



Now shattered into a thousand tiny fragments of lifeless beauty

each reflecting its own horror



I laugh at the mockery and irony of fate

for she spares no ones as she dances hand in hand with time

she taunts us with her invisible smile

a smile which to me reflects only a masque

a masque which my face no longer wear



Beware, dearest daughter, beware of the silent ones

beware, dearest daughter

for they are far less merciful than I