so proud you are, yet shrouded behind veils
of shadow - though we know so much of you
as mother night envelops you, caresses you
and us as we are near you.

though your face is hidden, i am certain
that you are as beautiful as a clear sky
when the moon does not hide mother's beauty.
you cannot help but be exquisite.

yet sometimes you seem to forget this,
and i shall stand, hour after hour
in the ravenwood's shadow. you protest,
yet i persevere and soon you concede.

convinced of your worth, your pride swells.
i leave you standing tall, with strength
and poise. onwards i ride, to tend to more
like you who cannot quite see truth.

after days i return, wearied and dry
of tongue. leaning against the nexus
i hear you sigh. your shoulders sag,
and you deflate - pride forgotten.

so beautiful and fragile you are,
your humility at once enticing
and aggravating. i resume the speech again,
remind you of that which you forgot.