Little White from the petal tree, how fair and how you shine,
Born beneath the highborn kings that stretch the royal line;
Craft the way to which you dream by deed and of your spell,
Born from age the curse to bear that dip the poison well.
Eyes that lock in mortal dread that glow in purple light,
Bane that spill from mouth and face, beware of owner’s blight;
Fragile state remain she is as death approach from dawn,
With those that come before the past that wish you all but gone.
Final line from the petal tree the branch is spent and pale,
Left behind a mother smile, which cast an evil vale;
Little White who lost her home, run such grimly fate,
Take the guard and watch your back before it is too late.
Tread the path that take to like, Royal Snow of White,
Press ahead to dare against the Cinder of the light;
Faith the guard that keep you, shadow and be free,
Step a place that chart unknown to the Walking City…