• In the rapturous dark
    she slides into the being of thought
    The first and the last
    The temptress , the heart
    A wildling that see’s not the hardships of existence
    She grasps the sword of strife
    She embraces the gentle challenge of woe.

    She is the shadow, the light
    Unknown yet achingly familiar
    She is forever alone
    Yet loved
    a phantom of fate
    That we call out to in fear.