You brought her to a quiet place
No mountains of intrusion.
There is no natural hiding place
To nurture her illusion.

All is stark
With wind and sky
The grasses move in whisper.
They tell her of a simple life
Where truth is true, and lie is lie.

In this bare land her soul lies bore
There is no one to consol her.
Like the funnel clouds that tear the land
She is ravaged by regret.

The cold of the present
Meets the heat of the past.
They create a destroying wind.
It moves across the bare landscape
Which once was the shadow of herself.

She sits in disillusionment. Confusion. Reality.