I heard her sing and then she danced.
She sang the song of glory and everybody clapped.
Whispers that were never heard,
Pierced throne never seen.
She still smiled and walked on; never opened her eyes;
To the world of disguise.
So mild yet so intense;
With every stroke, she grew stronger.
She won her battle with every spin;
Dark history found a new revolution.
The scars now became colours of her dreams.
The strokes made inspiring patterns.
She received the arrows; those used to strike.
And turned them into circle of life.
The shadow went behind and the delicate smile revived.
Hers was the halo that shined bright.