a piece of moon and the sunflower star

She is a pretty witch.

Crushed and curled up, she's lying in a corner.
Hands full of dreams, maybe she's dying in that corner.

The voice, she got, isn't loud anymore.
She's trying to pick a broken soul, that shattered before.

The best of her is already wasted.
She's the 'pretty witch', who is always hated.

Her body is full of scars, more deeper than her past.
Luckily, the poisonous breath inside her didn't last.