Lightened faces with dark features,
She missed the sound of a preacher.
She stood,
while her ears memorized the sound of her pulse.
She glances around the trees;
There was a crowd of women lurking,
All with devil-like features.
First with tails,
Then shifting their backs to fit the shells of snails,
Only to return their spines out of bend, again and again.
They were speaking, then singing softly.
They smile,
One laughs.
They suddenly stopped their blues,
She frowns at this crowd of who's.
The Devils began to turn into Angels,
Growing wings, while those with bows allow their arrows to fling.
She hates this,
She hates this.
They lit her on fire,
And so she flamed.
They laugh,
As she cries..
Suddenly, water pours over the goddesses eyes, then ashes, before she crumbles;
"Revive!"
And so the Goddess begins to rise.
From her ashes-ground up-she climbs in growth.
To the forest she had owed a deep oath.
She remembers the forest, left to die,
Sighing the moments she forgot to try.
