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pincess of twilight her title of the moon.

With mirth unkwown, she never showed smiles

they kept her locked, shackles on her wrists

But magic never touched skin nor eyes of

hers, for good or evil meant nothing on her

But war made her free, the knight cut

the iron, destroying the shackles. Though only a child,

despair knew for a while, melancholy

ancient friend forfaired, she was finally

free. Sun she could behold, first time ever

and a smile crept alone, to all eyes

to see. Her heart would soon healed be, for

the foolish knight brought hope with him.