Beware, dearest daughter,   beware of the silent ones   the beautiful ones   for now,they are all but whispers   tempered within the edifice of time      Beware,dearest daughter   for they are far less merciful than I      Even in death, my spirit cries out to her   weeping for the youth that was raped   the innocence that was defiled   her pale, child-like, porcelain face      Now shattered into a thousand tiny fragments of lifeless beauty   each reflecting its own horror      I laugh at the mockery and irony of fate   for she spares no ones as she dances hand in hand with time   she taunts us with her invisible smile   a smile which to me reflects only a masque   a masque which my face no longer wear      Beware, dearest daughter, beware of the silent ones   beware, dearest daughter   for they are far less merciful than I