The Dance of Time and Chance

In the fields walking
I see her
shadow within mists
under willows
with moons beckoning
as she dances her story
for anyone to see
her voice soft and echoing
seeking her grave of peace
alone and wandering
and I know how she weeps
to the grasses at night
waiting for time to quit
for the silence to overcome
mourning for the dead
praying for the empty
as her soul is but a dove
flying over heavens
living amongst the hells
hearing the cries of love
echoing the tears of hate
and I know her tale is sad
listening every night
opening arms to comfort
wisps of silken hair flying
cloak billows behind
her throat choking with desires
dancing within the flames
crackling with the fires
knowing all that is told
and I see her visions
one with all who crave
so she dances under skies
pulsing with the beat of doom
cringing at her sights
face enrapturing lovers
yet the night will tell no tales
and I walk into the dawn
breathtaking glory
as her spirit fades to cinders
the willow weeps alone
mist no longer circling
moons unseen
as hearts keep beat
a whisper on the winds
of time and chance.