Let me tell them your story.

A story of bravery,
Of a dying young lady.
With a pen and an ink,
I shall speak forth her legacy.
Never will her soul be rotten;
Never will her story be forgotten:

On a corner street of a market place,
There's a young lady with a fragile face;
She's as delicate like of a brittle vase,
Frail and feeble, she sits on a dark gloomy space;

Her hands with a scarlet flag raised;
Fighting for her bare life like a chase!

(She uttered:)
"My heart on the basketcase, struggling!
Maybe on the brink of death but striving!
Never will surrender, nor retreating!
Don't pity on me, I'm fighting!"

But on that cold, snowy night of December,
The dying young lady, weak, sick, feeble and wither.
The scarlet river, bursted out of her vein,
Making her scream, out of its pain.

She fell down with a blood-covered face,
Of a cold snowy winter on a market place;
She still  managed to put a smile on her face,
With a clinching fist, the scarlet flag was still raised!

I saw on that very place,
how a fragile young lady run the race!

No notion of agitation,
Not a sign of resignation.

---------------------------------
A/N:
To Imouto-chan IfiamKawaii, my little sister, who though struggling in pain but keeps on fighting!