​    ​With the memory still fluid in her dreams she leaves behind the bitter times embracing affectionately the dark moments that she was born to live. She remembers herself being in a quandary and bewildered, in wild places, having  empty  promises  into her hands,  trying to beautify her Sadness. She loved this Sadness. "In the village of her tongue, Sadness is called Brightness", says the poet.

But what really happened and what were just figments of mind? All remain  indecipherable at the skein of myth.