The trees i thought did cover
A hazy mystery behind it's leaves;
Draped in yellow, she stood there waiting,
For the blind child of destiny.

She searched the lands of poisoned deliverance,
But not a single one did speak
Of an ethereal fire that had eluded her,
That she, for centuries craved to seek.

She searched in the pain and toil of labour,
In the sound of the ocean's roar;
When she found nothing but a little voice inside her,
She shut hope's brittle doors.

The next morning she woke to a blinding light
And a voice that echoed low;
The doors swung open, they shrieked and howled,
And the wind began to blow.

"I am the face of the shadow of truth,
I'm the fruit of your persistence.
But I'm just an illusion, you can find my reflection
At a time none can comprehend."

She sat there pondering for a while, till she cried,
Still looking for pieces of her stolen elation;
But it was all in vain, not a speck remained;
It was all confiscated by her still coveted illusion.