Hollow is a part of
This filled heart-
That hears the howling wind
From distance as far as the horizon.
No doubt the humidity
In this stranded desert-
No sign of the dead-
Nor the living.
I am a heroine
Of my own story-
Haunted by my own mind.
Right hand clutched above
My beating heart.
A silent prayer to
Be found from the lost
Was made.
And then came a time
I believed in silver lining-
When a horse made with purity
Came to rescue me.
I knew where I was going-
I was going home-
Where I'd be held,
by beloved's hands-
once again.