The flame flickered in the breeze, scattering smoke,
From the old kerosene lamp on the threshold
Of the tiny room in a small little hut
Amidst the Indian fields, behold!

Moans of pain fill the warm, dark night,
That herald the arrival of joy,
When time freezes and encompasses
Baby and mom in a cocoon of love’n joy.

The baby arrived, and it was a she,
And the looks in the faces ’round her changed
From joy to sorrow, to impatience
And then hardened into some evil decision made.

The breeze turned into a harsh, raw wind,
Thunder growled – an angry sound
That echoes the world over in the hearts of men
And women who are good and kind.

Many a girl were carried by men
To tiny, innocent graves,
Driven by the greed that makes them play
God, but truly they’re devil’s knaves.

Do you want to be an angel of love,
Who spreads her wings to take the babe,
Hide her from those evil eyes,
Are you a harbinger of love?