She who is Unknown

Silent she wanders through camouflage of green.
Trees rustle in the winds, which whisper her name.
She does not stop for no man, woman, or child.
Her feet, they stride from place to place, but never do they rest.

Skin so fair and gentle, it is but white as snow in complexion,
And illuminate so bright it does in the moons glorious light.
Silver hair that does not ever tangle,
Rests curling down her gracious back.

Laced in silks from a world other to our own,
That glistens like shards of ice, with a heavenly glow.
Her essence of existence is compared to an angel’s melody.
So loving, so caring, but always shrouded in misery.