The wind could blow and swirl around him

but he would remain untouched.

He stands out against the darkness of night,

like a source of light in a windowless room. 

In his presence, all darkness fades.

Swish, swish

The white cloak swishes behind him with every step he takes.

His soft steps barely make a sound.

With him always comes the shrill of a flute,

whispering into all beings' ears. 

An upturn of lips soon follows.

No one knows where the music comes from.

Some say it’s a curse that follows him,

others think it may be the remnant of a past he cannot shake.

A few speculate it is the spirit of his lover who passed away. 

Who is to say it is not all three?

If you ask him, he has only one answer,

“My light.”