Seven girls danced on a hill,
On the last day of December.
It was a short moment to fill,
Wishing this time would last forever.
As winter was moving to spring,
Seasons of life moved as well.
Pretending that that Time’s a fair thing,
Eventually would be hollow as a bell.
Reality can prove to be cruel,
Finding out innocence is not.
Expect then to be made a fool,
Cause this hill is no innocent spot.
They no longer dance in the cold,
For away they went that day.
Or at least so I am told,
Really a mystery holds sway.
They were never found again,
How they disappeared is unknown.
Empty guesses say they’re with a friend,
Maybe they are out there alone.