My Beautiful Maiden,
I write these words beneath the shadow of the trees, where silence reigns and the wind whispers in sorrow. My heart is not with me, and I am lost. It was taken, I know not by whom, nor where it lies. Perhaps it is caught in the tangled roots of the earth or fluttering like a bird through the skies. But wherever it may be, I cannot feel its beat, and I wander now as though half of me is gone.
Once, my heart was full, given freely to thee, and with it, all the joy of being by thy side. But now, only the hollow echo remains—an ache, deep and unyielding. In the stillness of the woods, I search for it. I call its name to the stars and to the rivers that have known my tears. Yet, it does not return.
What cruel fate has stolen it away? What wicked force has torn it from my chest, leaving me adrift in this world without it? I thought it was safe with thee, in the quiet of our shared moments. But now, my heart is a ghost that haunts me, and I know not how to find it again.
I cannot be whole without it, and so I search, with hope dimming each day but never entirely extinguished. I do not know if I will ever find it again, or if I must learn to live without it. But until the day I can feel its warmth once more, I will remain here, beneath the trees that once held our secrets, praying that the earth will give back what was taken.
Come to me, my love, if you are able. Come to me and help me find what I have lost, for without it, I am but a shadow of the maiden I once was.
Until then, I remain lost in this search,