I envy thee, fair maid, thy mind so light, Unburdened by the world's oppressive weight. When thou dost think of pain, it's physical blight, Thy spirit untouched by sorrow's cruel fate.

Oh, woman, thou hast not yet known the deep Torment that can dwell within a sister's soul. The ceaseless torment, the unending weep, When pleas are ignored, and fear takes its toll.

When she is pinned, her mind a captive's cell, She wonders if this moment marks her end. Tears silently fall, a mournful knell, As he continues, a cruel, heartless friend.

Her pain transcends the body's physical plight, As self-blame creeps in, a venomous sting. She questions her worth, her shattered plight, And wonders if anyone will believe a thing.

To thee, dear sister, she bares her wounded heart, Seeking solace, a haven from the storm. Will thou embrace her, or tear her apart? Will thou offer comfort, or make her more forlorn?

She fears that love may never be her lot, That past betrayals will forever bind. Her mind, a cage, her spirit truly lost,Trapped by the torments of a cruel mankind.

Oh, woman, free from life's unkindest cuts, Whose heart remains untouched by sorrow's sting, Be gentle to the sister who confides, And let thy kindness be a healing thing.

Cherish thy innocence, let it bloom and grow, But learn from others, their pain, their strife. For in compassion, true wisdom does show, And offers hope for a better life.

Thank you, “dearest Henrietta”, my haven in the storm, before your radiant light of hope, my world was lost in shadow.”

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