When good twists into bad, and bad grows into good
And flesh and steel become one,
Red will rule the world,
And all with prints will suffer.
But from deep waters, one will rise
With bones buried at her feet and gems for vision,
Who will show that rage does not justify revenge,
And tyranny and history do not own the future.
She, separated from the he, will dig, demand and restore
The chance for a new balance.