She who is

Storming as a thundercloud,

bitter smile to match,

shadow of the vaunted halls,

wake of ember and in ash

This is not your glory, no,

though fierce you oft may be,

huntress with a heart of gold,

that they will never see

Stirred chaos is no home to you,

some day will surely show,

the light that flares beneath the skin,

in burning afterglow

One day you'll blossom, screaming skald,

as every secret does,

and on that day know then as now,

that you are my beloved.

---

So the original version of this was quite different (or rather the final original), but I thought I'd include it anyway. A little more prosaic perhaps (and certainly less prophetic!), but although the end turned to romance it was more about seeing beneath the skin of a regular person and...wanting to tell them that they are seen.

Stalking like a thundercloud,

your scowl schooled to match,

you storm along the corridors,

cleaning up all the ash

But that is not your story, no,

though quiet you seem to be,

a huntress with a heart of gold,

is what they fail to see

For what you do is not all you are,

as some day will surely show,

the light that shines beneath the skin,

and leaves you all aglow

One day you'll blossom, pale and proud,

as every lady does,

and on that day know then as now,

that you will have my love.