Ages of toiling have taken toll on her
Bowed and bent by years of strain
A stick supports her frail and fragile body
Eyes sunken and drained of hope
Her skin dry and withered
She roams the village awaiting the dreadful end
To restore her peace and pride
For the earth had swallowed her pillars
The cruel angel put off her stars
Who once shone and were envied by every villager
Not even hell fire can scare her now.