Ghostlike walking by the mirror such a shining looking glass... the day took hold of this one once born of noble class. No servants to gather .. no one person to care.. just an appararition wavering there. Who wouldst know unless in tune yet still say not the mind dost echo as if empty room. The fairest figure gliding through for moments in time glancing trancing taking all in along the way ...fixing this and ridding of that...what is the reason for this to appear...why ask when no one will care. The days deeds are half done the work but a dent in a tumultuous mountain of rubble, bent....and energy spent. No one will notice when the kind hand disappears ..a hand of love and light that it shares. Look ye close at what is left behind ..no kaos; no needs to be met save the one that came by... as a whispering prayer.
For One Who Cleans for Others...