The Lonely Wood

There was a girl who sat in wait, For something glorious - something great.

The forest whispered not to leave, And the girl would stay to mourn and grieve.

She longed to walk the roads afar, The eternal wait would leave her scarred.

Although she loved the forest green, There was a world yet to be seen.

She closed her eyes and let out a cry, In a weeping voice that broke the sky.

She would not let this pass her by, Her hidden wings yearned to fly.

The night swept by like a purple veil, And by the first light's call, The fairy girl with her head held high, Emerged from the willow's shawl.

She left behind the world she knew, When the trees gave way to reveal, Something less enchanting, yes, But nonetheless more real.

She walked amid the lands abroad, She learned of every tongue, Every story had she heard, And every song she sung,

Ages past, and she wandered still, Wondering if she had found, What she had set out for long ago, Perched on the forest's mound.

When weariness took over her, She sought rest upon a stone, For instead of waiting in the woods, She was wandering alone.

Among her travels she had met, A man that claimed to have seen, The beginnings and the ends of the earth, And all that laid between.

He told her not to stray too far, For somewhere in the land, Was a place so wondrous and so pure, Than anything else at hand.

He told great stories and brave tales, Of the wars that he had seen. But with a frown he then confessed, There was one place he'd not been.

He described in detail the pain in his eyes, That they had not perceived, A place so wondrous and so pure, A place he seldom believed.

The woman stood with much restrain, Only to sink back to her knees, Longing for the land she loved, Longing for the trees.

In the land devoid of green, Her innocence she bled, No longer such a little girl, Her wings had long since shed.

She never again slept in the flowers, Or drank of the living stream, She often wondered if she'd ever lived, Amidst that endless dream.

Forever there she wept alone, Forever there she stood, Dreaming in the lonely plains, Of her days in the lonely wood.