Lost Vision Of Hope

Desperate she presses her hands
On the cold chest.
The pieces of her broken
heart,
Not to be scattered.
The dream that got lost in
the way,
In the lost island’s,
The thorn of the dead spring
In her desperate embrace
She is waiting – hoping
Her empty gaze
Who is rebelling
against
The steps of silence
disturb the sleep.
She woke up
She followed sounds
His sound, His sound
And set off on a Quest
And seek some peace
And sleep and rest.