Silver gown flowing white.
Bellowing sleeves of crystal light.
Both dancing gracefully in the morning breeze,
As she glides through the heavenly trees.
Like a feline stalking its prey.
Her ocean blue eyes scan the oncoming day,
As her sun-touched, golden hair licks at a glimmering crown.
Wise yet mysterious is her unwavering frown.
Her time is ending.
The will of the ring bearer is bending.
It won't be long,
Until the wind ceases to carry her song,
And water no longer harbors her swan.
Never again shall the towering trees greet her at the dawn.
Her elegant fingers close around a four-leafed clover.
It is over.