The darkness was falling,
To hide a long, tiring day in its bosom.
Trees stood naked,
Autumn leaves spread on the ground.
There, in a vast, lonely valley,
I saw her, a solitary figure.
All clad in black, walking silently,
With unsteady, aimless steps.
One white hand lay on her breast,
Her head bent in deep thought.
Her feet bled
To show how difficult her path way.
Thorn clung to the hem
Of her black attire.
The hair blew onto her face,
Her slender form shuddered.
She stumbled,
But her outstretched arm found no support.
Yet she never looked back,
At the lonely path she covered.
Aimlessly, I know,
She wanders on forever.
But never reaches her destiny,
For she knows not what it is.
When I look at her,
I often think in wonder,
How closely she resembles that haunted being
——my soul.