Evolution of a fighter
Once there was a fierce little thing,
Whose heart, a gentle song, sings.
Nothing could hold her,
No cage, no bars nor loving arms,
So her heart grew colder.
As with all wild things,
Many sought to conquer her,
Hands turned fists fought to subdue her.
Her little heart was broken,
The love she had to give choking.
No one could see her kindness,
And in their blindness,
A monster she was called.
What choice had she
But to defend against their callous blows?
So on she walks, fists at the ready.
The sweet girl, a warrior became.
That's just how this story goes.
