The Solo of a Lost Viola

Dizzied Footsteps of a drunken bear calling Hallelujah,
coaxed the banished girl whose opinions fogged her freedom

While her fellow humans smoothed over field of robust
dogwoods for the most retro complex to be,
she knew it'd never be an essential blue fire,
but a future machine

So like THAT escapades of frivolous day,
spent in and hosted by the wood in immense merry-making,
were NEVER sought there again

So the Solo of a Lost Viola became the owner of said woods, as it played the harmony, of bulldozed dogwoods,
as it grew the forest whole again.