Ezmay's doubt

The strange lad cheers up a doubtful Ezmay

Though applications drift like autumn leaves
Through forests of doubt where opportunities fade,
And rejections settle, silent as winter frost,
And your song, a snowflake melting on the breeze,

There are those who see your true reflection
Shining like moonlight through the pines,
Yet Moonbeam still gleams, a beacon in the night,
Where your voice flows like mountain rivers.