The pressure looming
The pound of her heart increasing
Demon’s approaching
The stake of another battering a certainty
But what can she do? When her hands and legs have been cut off, what can she do?
The places she called good and fields she called green were now bleak
The light she desperately prayed to stay was now dim
What can she do?

I see it in her eyes
The fear, the fidget, I see it in the flight
The twists, the turns, I see the fires waiting to ignite
The hate is taking form, and the demon’s getting on
Now no sword can hurt her, because she grew numb
And the feelings of her heart are nothing but ashes
But the road and the path are unknown though avid

What will she do?
Where’s the escape?
Where’s the place free from tears and pain?
There’s none, but there’s hope and it’s mounting
Very soon, she’ll leave her cocoon and emerge a monster
Make war against the gods and make servant of her torturers

Poor girl, far from home
What can she do? Evolve!