She will rise

To weep these tears love to express
Where fears abound, where love once was?
Promises failed, the bruises pale
The guardian's hand's the butcher's tool, 
And kisses fade to bruises too 
And love's embrace to bitter jail
Why's fear around the love that was?
Why's the flower with crud engrossed?

Smile again. The tears wash the bruises away. 
Tempered, you'll efface hate to bloom:
A butterfly bedazzling out of the cocoon
Casting silvery tiaras on flowers of new day.

(c) nyonglema