So she walks,
A soundless figure masked by a morning's fog.
So she dances,
To the sonic boom of the thunder over head.
So she cries,
Tears of sorrow and of joy onto the floor of the forest.
So she caresses,
Like a lover as her wings stroke the long dead ground.
So she fantasizes,
With the melancholy of one so blessed they no not the difference in failure to excellence.
So she shouts,
Cries of yearning and of needing.
So she loves,
For all that is lost,
For all that will never be,
For all that she will ever wish for.
here's the pic that goes along with that
