They told me that she was once beautiful,
Resplendent, magnificent and bountiful,
That you could look at the blue, white and yellow skies,
The green trees, and the sun shining through with your eyes.
But all I see now is the heavy air,
The trees, sad and bare,
And the thick grey mist,
Wrapped in the somber tryst.
As I try to imagine, amidst the gloom and woe,
How she looked a long time ago,
I paint over the greys in my dreams,
The yellows, reds and greens,
Wondering if I would ever see the world of which they tell,
A paradise lost, far away from the land we dwell.