A little girl so full of love,
Innocent but for Her place,
With golden hair and gentle eyes,
Serenity writ on Her face.

Matron to the Celestines,
And figurehead in vicious war;
A little girl, though, nonetheless,
Without a crime to suffer for.

Despite the vines and vile runes,
The Lady teaches, "Love all things,"
Attacked by foes, betrayed by friends,
And still She smiles and sings.

Who will weep for this sweet girl,
Who for Herself will not,
Only an opportunity,
Her personhood forgot?

The half-formed often rise and fall,
Their guardians in violent strife;
But She was tortured, warped and scarred,
Perhaps for Her entire life.

Her great reward for teaching us
To love without restraint,
That little girl who begged Her sons
To spare even the Taint:

Was to be set on by all sides,
By Glom, the Mags, the Wilde,
So lonely, trapped and helpless,
So callously defiled.