Survival is a state of mind,
for the wolf that dwells deep inside.
Brazen beneath a twilight stare,
the moon within her empty glare.
Icy images, winter borne,
barren trees that Spring has scorn.
Alone within a forlorn night,
a golden moon has set her sight.
A kiss of snow upon her lips,
the path was lost within a mist.
Cold gray stone before her eyes,
a graveyard of forgotten lies.
Sparkling lights from city gleam,
she turns her back upon the dream.
Embarking through a forgotten place
she searches for a familiar face.
A hopeless child forced from her home
a night, a moon, a wolf that roams.

A horse came running across a dream,
sweeping through a starlight stream.
The moonbeams glaze a golden path,
a pounding hoof both hard and fast.
The stallion’s fight, a midnight flight,
a fire burns across his sight.
The canyon shakes, the lightning flash,
escape will claim the horse’s wrath.
Endeavoring to win this race alone,
emerging through his smoky home.
The golden fields have burned its fate,
ashy debris, the trees lay waste.
A hanging head that claims defeat,
this wayward traveler, a path must meet.
Empty visions, forgotten pride,
a child in which this horse confides.
A rope is set upon his neck,
an injured soul, a heart that rests.
This angered beast, a kinship finds,
a little girl, an apple shines.
Freedom lost, a home now gained,
a saddled horse becomes so tame.
A desert stallion, forgets that night,
the time he nearly lost his life.
An Arizona fire, a demon gone,
a wild horse dreams a golden song.

A child forgotten
Though childhood is far behind me
A fatherless daughter
Though my father lives still
In those quiet hours
In those unguarded moments
My thoughts injure me
Wishing and wishing
Crying and crying
Hoping and hoping
That I will be a fatherless daughter no more

And so I shall awaken
The sun shinning brightly upon my face
Happiness beaming across my features
Dark thoughts retreating
Birds are singing
The wind is gentle
And I am hoping and hoping
Praying and praying
Wondering and wondering
If I will be a fatherless daughter no more

Somewhere in his private world
Perhaps his thoughts betray him
Maybe he thinks of me
This daughter he has not quite forgotten
I would spare him his bitterness
Cure him of regret
Promote a mutual forgiveness
If only he is thinking and thinking
Laughing and laughing
Praying and praying
That he will be a daughterless father no more.