From the deep slumbers of past
She rose.
Arising from ashes of betrayal
Dirt and dust of untruths,
Shreds of inextricable fate,
Was all left in those
Languid hands.


She stood in the woods,
Surrounded by the Ravens,
In the mystic eternal forest,
Searching for her soul,
Once lost in the,
Distorting,
Temporary World.


"How naive was I?
To search the contentment,
In the erratic chains of illusions,
But the question is
Will I find them
In my solitude?"