The fog lay dense over lake and land.
A gloomy silence
had swept in among the trees.
Hopelessness's meager promises,
woven all the details,
in the gray weave.
Will the light and clarity return?
In the hopelessness of the gray swampland,
something seemed to gleam.
A gentle fine tuned light
glowed faintly through the fog.
Like a little star between the clouds,
could the warm light gleam.
It spread slowly
between the fog banks.
So what could be the source of this light?
See where the fog slowly dissipates,
and a being can be discerned.
An elf so bright
in the morning fog,
Turns on the hope of life
in the dark springs of the forest.
She spreads light,
and disperse fog.
In the rare hour
of dawn.