standing amongst the crowd
so often
so stuck
she dreams of the escape
away
and there she goes
with her roots she runs
alas
from those with which she has yet to grow
hollow in soul
she listens to her mother's song
psithurism  
enchanting in the essence
that fear exists solely in the mind
for the soul can conquer the thought
and so she runs
hear you me
down by the river
she pauses
and she can not hear the song any longer
silence surrounding
she follows the river flow
to the west
she walks now
and there is a sense of warmth
where the skies meet the waters
she rests
within this world of setting suns
idle in simplistic measures
of life
itself