In the quiet court of trust, where shadows softly creep,
Lies a tale of promises, buried deep in sleep.
A Cestui Que Trust, a name wrapped in lore,
Of rights and of fortunes, on a distant shore.
O Cestui Que Vie, your life a fleeting spark,
Once vibrant, now but whispers in the twilight dark.
Lost upon the tempest, where skies meet the brine,
Amidst the raging waters, your destiny entwined.
No anchor holds your spirit, no map to guide the way,
In waters vast and endless, in silence you decay.
The trust stands firm, a vessel made of stone,
Yet you drift like a phantom, far from hearth and home.
Who speaks for your inheritance, who claims the solemn right?
In shadowed halls of justice, we search for your lost light.
For you are more than whispers, more than whispers on the breeze,
You’re heartbeats of the ages, the rustling of the leaves.
The tide may bear your name, yet can never hold your soul,
In trust, they seek to claim you, in courts, they seek control.
But the ocean knows your story, the waves know your refrain,
Though lost at sea, you linger, like echoes in the rain.
O trust, you stand eternally, as guardians of the fate,
In the dance of law and fortune, we search beyond the gate.
For every Cestui Que Vie that wanders, lost and free,
Shall one day find their anchor in the vast, eternal sea.
So let us raise our voices, let them carry far and wide,
For the ones who’ve sailed beyond sight, across the shifting tide.
In every heart, a treasure, in every soul, a plea,
For the trust that binds us all, and the life lost at sea.