Black tips on the wings of an angel

Dipped in the ashes of her hell

The life she lives is less tham holy

Because of the things that rule she

In light of the lasting maturity

That made her grow up prematurely

She finds sanctum in silence, acts of defience, and her self-induced liberty

Yet the freedom is but knee deep as she wades the waters

What happened to daddy's little daughter?

She drowned in the insecurities of her own father

What floats to the surface

Is a girl who won't defy the purpose

That sinks to the bottom

Phase upon phase of a moon she calls her identities 

Through struggles that aren't soon forgotten

Not written away and deemed the story of her life 

Rather the story of her triumph and strife

Because the multiple personalities 

Supressed in her entitity

Are what completely made she

The innocence, malevolence, and defiance 

Are all relevant to the imminence

The imminence of happiness

The woe that was brought out in her youth

Immortalizes itslef as some higher truth

The things that made her come this far

Had to leave some sort of scar