On the ridge of a mountain tall,
She was standing in the mist.
Above her just the evening sky,
Her skin shone silver under the moon.
Below her lay a deep blue lake,
Holding an image of the evening gloom.
The image was ever still and clear
Yet not everything was seen.
It seemed to miss her graceful presence,
All was mirrored, but not her.
For a picture of such perfect beauty,
Is reflected only in the highest stars.
-
How long she had been standing there,
No one really knew.
But the oldest trees remembered her,
From when they themselves were young.
And many legends told of her,
Of civilizations now long gone.
But they never came close to describing her,
In even their most precious tale or song.
-
The twilight now slowly turned to dusk,
And clouds blocked out the moon.
Nights' darkness spread across the land,
And consumed it as a whole.
Strong winds from the east now swept,
But she stood strong and firm.
Not even the rain, that poured down tirelessly,
Could quench the fire in her soul.
-
For many ages and aeons more,
She stayed patiently on that spot.
Until she felt the day was here
The one she hoped would never come.
And indeed at dusk, from the west,
Rose an apocalyptic sun.
Could this truly be day,
That the earth would be undone?
The mighty mountains crumbled down,
The lake roared in dismay.
The forest burned, it's creatures ran,
The world lay in decay.
And all of nature turned to dust,
until there was nothing left to see.
Yet she stood there waiting evermore,
For a day that could not be.
She was standing in the mist.
Above her just the evening sky,
Her skin shone silver under the moon.
Below her lay a deep blue lake,
Holding an image of the evening gloom.
The image was ever still and clear
Yet not everything was seen.
It seemed to miss her graceful presence,
All was mirrored, but not her.
For a picture of such perfect beauty,
Is reflected only in the highest stars.
-
How long she had been standing there,
No one really knew.
But the oldest trees remembered her,
From when they themselves were young.
And many legends told of her,
Of civilizations now long gone.
But they never came close to describing her,
In even their most precious tale or song.
-
The twilight now slowly turned to dusk,
And clouds blocked out the moon.
Nights' darkness spread across the land,
And consumed it as a whole.
Strong winds from the east now swept,
But she stood strong and firm.
Not even the rain, that poured down tirelessly,
Could quench the fire in her soul.
-
For many ages and aeons more,
She stayed patiently on that spot.
Until she felt the day was here
The one she hoped would never come.
And indeed at dusk, from the west,
Rose an apocalyptic sun.
Could this truly be day,
That the earth would be undone?
The mighty mountains crumbled down,
The lake roared in dismay.
The forest burned, it's creatures ran,
The world lay in decay.
And all of nature turned to dust,
until there was nothing left to see.
Yet she stood there waiting evermore,
For a day that could not be.
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