There are days when I drift away to a faraway land,
Scared and lonely, I pray that someone comprehends.

I search for my anchor but see the rope gliding loose,
In desperation, I bury a part of myself in the sand and change my tune.

There are times of terror and nervousness when I glance at other dwellers,
They are connected securely and seamlessly to their anchors and grace the ebbs of the tide.

My alter ego won’t stop commenting as my vision blurs with tears,
There is so much speechlessness in me; the roaring lioness twists & turns.

I am always grateful for the lighthouses in my life, pointing out the terrain and sympathizing with my plight.

It’s just tough to be a warrior all the time.
A hero of her own story requires a shoulder to lean on sometimes.

Soaking a shirt with tears or brimming with sunshine,
My adventurous eyes forever stare at the shoreline.