At dawn, with cloudbursts, daylight breaks.
The sun's warm rays
awaken the cold stone walls of the olden castle.
A maiden, fair, with silk auburn locks
emergeth from the ancient gates.
Though she is embellished in a gown of velvet,
with medieval embroidery garnishing it's splendor,
her face seems out of place somehow.
Her eyes shine the light of a generation
far greater than the age she is cast to.
As she walks down the cobblestone bridge to a grassy meadow,
her eyes seem to search for a being unknown.
Perhaps it is a person, an owl, or a fish.
Perhaps it is not a being at all,
but a thing, a something lost in time.
But her eyes give no clue as to what they're searching for,
only that they're searching...