She and her thoughts
Wove a tangled web
And as time wore on
In frustrations ebb,
Her mind and she began
A journey, they'd
Ne'er ... fast forget.
So they travelled far,
As far as could get
To a place called Instravan.
Such a land of peace
And of solitude,
Where the heather grows,
From the brackened wood
And the brooks sing all day long.
In surrendered sighs
She wiped her eyes,
For she knew she did not belong.
Time is but a moment's ear
And the hours, do exist.
This was just,
A seconds lust
And a fantasy... she'd kissed.
(c) ZYDHA HART 2003 |
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