The Maiden of the Hollow Veil

Beneath a sky of somber hue, where clouds in mourning drift,
A lonely girl, with eyes of dew, doth wander, lost, adrift.
Her shadow falls on barren heath, where thorns and brambles creep,
And whispers soft, with trembling breath, of secrets none will keep.

No hearthlight warms her weary soul, no voice her name doth call,
The winds alone, with mournful toll, resound her heart’s sad fall.
Her gown, a tattered shroud of white, clings damp with twilight’s tears,
Each step a dirge through endless night, where hope succumbs to fears.

In crumbling halls of ancient stone, where ivy chokes the spire,
She dwells, a ghost, yet not unknown, to sorrow’s cold desire.
The portraits glare, with eyes of dust, their silence sharp as knives,
And mock her heart, now bound in rust, where love no longer thrives.

Once, perchance, a friend she knew, whose laughter lit the gloom,
But time, with claws, withdrew, and sealed it in a tomb.
Her memory, a fading spark, doth flicker, then expire,
And leaves her lost in shadows stark, to feed despair’s dark fire.

By moonlight’s grace, she walks alone, where willows softly sigh,
Her fingers trace the mossy stone, where dreams and lovers lie.
The graveyard, cloaked in silver mist, her only faithful friend,
Embraces her, with spectral kiss, where broken hopes descend.

O wretched maid, what cruel decree hath bound thee to this fate?
To roam where none thy grief shall see, nor lift thy sorrow’s weight.
The stars above, in cold disdain, no solace deign to send,
They watch thy tears, like endless rain, fall where none comprehend.

At midnight’s hour, her voice ascends, a wail to pierce the dark,
Yet echoes fade, unanswered,
And bind her to her lonely mark.

Let darkness claim her fragile form,
Let silence be her bed.
No dawn shall break her heart’s sad storm,
Nor dry the tears she’s shed.

Upon the heath, her shade shall stray,
Where loneliness is sown.
A girl unseen, forever gray,
In twilight’s arms, alone.