She plays her games with butterflies
Sings beautiful song for her beautiful sunrise
Twinkles her eyes at blue sky
Like a gem on lotus petal with a surprise
Flies with her cloudy feather
So, her feet don’t rest on ground,
And shall never
She had built her own bridges
With the sacred red oak wood
She crossed over the lake of sadness
She knows what she deserves, and
she has made everything under the hood.