Do not awaken my darkened side..
In good remittance, I am at present..
And penance in history deeds ..
I have put to past in payments..
Do not stain my happiness..
It has been hard to come by..
And never enough ..
To throw sea sand on it's gold dust..
Even the lady of the night..
Was once a virgin, a child at that..
And would one day see through stains..
Cast in doubt on her image worn..
Of perception and judgement..
Be it in life or death,..
Grace would be hers, be assured..
Do not unplug my feathers..
In stained hands in doubt..
For when one goes in such for specifics..
A thousand others are missed in opportunities..
Manoroma holds fortunes in disguise..
For the future is always going to be..
Better in brightness than the past..
Manifestation of invisible doors..
Coming to light, in daylight of the aftermath..
Strike me not to ignite my rage..
Cast no doubt, while I am still with breath..
Do not unplug my feathers with stained hands..
And even when I am no more..
Strike me not in stain in blemish..
Do not awake my darkened side..