She smiled as she scribbled her want.
Her thirst to achieve success of her dream in an enchanted chant.
She saw her wish with her eyes whispering the winners tale.
Then came the devil of truth, creeping with life's sour fruit.
Told her, she couldn't. It's not her game.
She wasn't strong only her dream was,
But she did, she tried. Laying alone she cried.
But it was too late, she became life's mime.
Cause now the dream had died.