Tailor-made butterfly wishes,
Kiss me between bullet wounds,
harsh words and victory cries.

Broken promises made out in hand grenades,
ribbons around trees spelled I.E.D.

She had finally breathed,
six months before her last.
A hero's death played by a sinner.

Her name was Dream,
And you were her ambition,
tall dark and decorated,

a vision of perfection
to the little girl
still playing grown-up

You forgot to tell her,
after the applause died,
that giants do fall.

The harder
the faster

And she'd be the first to go.