Your hair proves your status

Your demeanor proves your care

You care for all magic creatures

Your green eyes look upon them

with empathy and sorrow

They are dying.

But you know who can save them

Your love

The Seeker of Truth

He wields the Sword 

And your Heart

You wield the Confessions

And his Love

You lead when no one else can

You care when no one 

Can be bothered

You are the Mother Confessor.