Let me tell you the tale of the girl who died twice,
As her bones sang for retribution beneath my dirty feet,
Chants filled the tomb with words I once embraced—her lies,
The violent wind hissed—asking why I let the girl have this fate.

I could still taste her tears the day she first died;
Still hear the echo of her cries as her beliefs crumpled down,
My palms remembered the blood scattered at her side,
Until this very time, her real body was never been found.

Years passed and we met again under the crescent moon,
She wore a smile despite the visible scar on her chest,
With no resemblance of the girl I saw playing every noon,
Instead,...