And lately in her dingy little room,
Her discontentment settles like a dust,
For once a haven now becomes her tomb,
Her once steel sharpened mind shown signs of rust,
She dreams of riding stallions on a beach,
And taste the saline spray from ocean deep,
To find a place no human can impeach,
But for the one she so aspires to keep,
She rides the horse avoiding shifting sand,
And sees him standing high upon a hill,
Now climbing slowly reaching for his hand,
He holds her tight against the autumn chill.
Her dingy little room now clear and bright,
He whispers in her ear by candlelight.