Rippling waters reflect truth
mirror back age, beauty, honesty, pain
who is she that I can see?
she's not as I knew her
she's quiet now
her eyes dull, her hair wild
a face so melancholy
that you could never imagine
that a sunny smile
ever graced her face
who is she now?
I never knew her
too painful to stay,
but she's too weak to leave
too pained to remain quiet,
but she's too meek to ever speak again
she's mearly a reflection of what she used to be
a shadow of the happy,
loud, strong girl
that I swear I used to know
I throw a stone upon the surface
before walking quietly away
from the all-too-truthful river

Penned by my hand on the 13th of Valnuary, in the year 296 AF.