She woke up on the forest floor
Not knowing how or why
She looked up with pale blue eyes
At a vicious red gray sky
She wondered aloud where time had gone
And picked a blessed thistle
She asked the spirits who she was
Whispering winds did whistle
She was ignorant and her mind was boggled
But still she will try to stand
She felt her knees crumble with the effort
And crashed back to the land
She set her hand to her heart
But heard only the sorrowful leaves
Her shadow danced around her body
With the news of being free
She looked around for the trail to follow
Her vision blurred and all she could see
Was a white light pouring slowly through the trees
So she lay to die in a fusty forest
Or would her savior come?