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If preys choose to retreat,
Inside the womb of the divine
If they chose to be deaf
To the incessant din that hurt their ears
And to be blind
To the trauma that they went through
Gather it not that the evil monsters
Trying to feast upon their purity
Shall be allowed redemption!

Gather it not that the blessings conferred unto them
Shall remain
Gather it not that their kin shall bloom into rare pearls
Gather it not even that their afterlife is meant to be as rosy
As they wish it to be
For,
Preys, when they stand back up
And face the world with a smile,
Have upon their crowns,
A tiara
Given to them as a promise
That justice shall be done
As long as they would choose to carry out their duties
And fulfil the requirements of their fates!

And armed with divine justice,
Preys are no more to be deemed as such,
Rather, they are to be feared
For being living representations of strength!

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