Mortee

She stands,

Poised,

Looking forward,

Prepared for anything,

Arrows across her shoulders,

A blade in one hand,

A bow in the other,

And a black hood,

And heavy stalkings,

Black sleaves to cover her arms,

Another women crouches,

In the distance,

Half hidding,

A hawk flutters around hers,

Watching.

She runs and she runs and she runs,

Through the dark and swirling myst,

Though the narrow corridors and passageways,

Are those living being lurking in the shadows,

Or just phantasms of her mind.

My maiden why is it you run ?

Are you in a dream ?

A hallucination ?

Or do you run for your life?

I run for freedom !

I run to freedom !

I run because I am Alive !

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