In ages long past, before memory took root,

The forged heavens still shimmered with light.

Their maker's hands withdrew from their kin

Leaving the sky to wander by its own might.



A herald of wind turned her gaze below,

Abandoning the clouds that once knew her voice

She searched for truth among fleeting hearts

But mortal dreams dimmed her choice.



The skybound maiden sang in quiet tones,

And the air itself answered her call.

She was a child of wonder and faith,

Dancing with dawn, in awe of it all.



Her hymns once calmed the tempests' rage.

And guided the lost through thunder's roar.

Her laughed crowned each cloud with flight,

Yet her fragile wings grew frail forevermore



Then stillness came where joy had dwelled,

And disdain arose in the silent choir.

"The winds grow weak," the heavens said,

"And her song no longer carries fire."



Silence of apathy bound in her rest,

Till she awoke to a sky grown cold.

"Why do they shun the song I sow?"

But the heavens had nothing to be told.



Grief and gale, sorrow and storm,

Poured from her heart through endless blue.

The winds still whisper her quiet lament,

But none remain who remember what she knew.



Her hymns once stilled the thunder's ire.

And guided the lost through the tempest's roar.

Her laughted blessed each cloud with flight.

But her wings grew frail forevermore



Then silence fell where joy once shone

And disdain stirred in the heaven's choir.

"The winds grow weak." They said

"And her song no longer kindles fire."



Silence of apathy sealed the sky maiden's slumber,

Only to wake the heavens' scorn.

"Why do they fear the song I sow?"

But they replied no more



Wrath and woe, wind and sorrow

Poured from her heart through endless skies

The storm wept soft in mourning silence

For no one could hear her solemn cries

Do you wish to hear her story? Do you wish to open her aching heart?