She dwells in mist and mystery, but I have been unable to see her.
The wind envies her laughter, so I fear she has ben whisked away, adrift in air, floating away from those who care so much for her.
At times, I can almost sense her near and long to gaze into the veil of uncertainty to where she lives. I know not why her world seems so much more magical and unattainable to me.
Have you seen her, the Sprite?
She dwells in mist and mystery, but I have been unable to see her.
It is said that she can whisper happiness, so I fear that ones threatened by her innocence have conspired to banish her, to ensure the dark uncertainty that now prevails.
At times, my breath catches, and I swear I hear her, and my soul reaches deep into some past moment hoping to linger in optimism and contentment. So fleeting are those moments, so rare, that oft I doubt they happened at all.
Have you seen her, the Sprite?
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