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