...short of breath
she stops to rest
and only now looks behind her
knowing all she will see
in the gloom are the trees
that cover her escape.
her home has vanished
in a fog so dense
even the moon's light cannot pierce it.
her heart longs for something,
but her head knows not what.
perhaps it is the touch
of the silver-sweet moonrays,
perhaps the feeling of safety
when in her homeland,
perhaps the smile that once lit her delicate features,
now long lost.
she walks on, a new, cold fire
burning within her,
longing not for love or safety,
but revenge, for the death,
and the tears she will always cry.
