Did you meet her?

I don't ever think you met her,
that girl, who once lived in the dark.
Her skin so pale, her heart so cold,
no wonder why no one ever loved her.
One day she fell upon kindness,
when love and grace embraced her,
for a short walk down an unknown path.

She was greeted by broken friends,
like a drink of the greenest Oz.
Lovely, till kindness ran dry,
making friends become wolves,
with no woodsmen to aid her.
After her brightness was pulled away,
she was alone with the darkness of trees,
tainted by the bloody water she drank.

No longer did kindness kiss her lips,
nor love grace her longing eyes.
A smile would not come to her,
for such a thing would betray her.
Wicked is wickedness,
even with a coating of kindness.
I don't ever think you met her,
that girl, who once lived in the dark.
Her skin so pale, her heart so cold,
no wonder why no one ever loved her.