Her skin is dark purplish-black
Like the night
Her hair is the color of snow
In the light

She lost her eyes long ago
Someone attacked us
After we snuck out to see
The night lantern's glow

She's my world
My heart, my soul
The other end of my red string of fate
On her finger is where it's curled

She loves the rain
And the snow
And when I asked why
She told me it eased her pain

Her pain is my own
Her fear
Everything that to others
Is relatively unknown

She's all I've got left
Her family bought me
But now they don't need
To get by on petty theft

When she touches my skin
I feel a sort of hunger
A primal instinct
It sits inside
And begs from within

Though she may be blind
She can see in her own way
And out of all the people I know
She might have the sharpest mind

There are a lot of names by which she is known
She hates them all
And won't let me call her by a single one
Though, to them, that's unknown
My favorite by far, though
Is Robyn of the North Snows.

- Copper's Aria