In mist, that throughout time has swirled
across green fields and over rippling streams.
She treads her silent path.
Into his heart, into his thoughts and dreams.
Not fettered by the chains of man
she comes at night to stir his mortal sleep.
To sit and hold him close.
To shroud him in her wraithlike arms and weep.
Then when the morn arrives at last,
she's gone, before he wakes to claw his way
up through the silken haze
of sleep, into the gentle dawn of day.
And when his time to leave has come
he'll follow her, through all that went before.
If love transcends all else
he'll find her. Hold her in his arms once more.
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