I am the rider,
I am between the valleys
and down the hills.
I am looking out-
to scared to look in!
I have been riding for years,
looking for her...
I go to Kings Cross-
and wait for hours,
I travel on.
I hit heavy clouds,
and pounding rain.
I am thrown on wet roads...
I get up!
I am back on this journey.
I hear the music in my head,
the million love notes.
I hear her voice.
I have to carry on.
"To find her purpose"
The roads reflect her story
and I am chasing words.
It can not end here!
One more turn,
One more stretch!
I can see her...
standing on the highest cliff,
her arms are stretched
and mine are afraid.
Will I make it to her?
I get only to her footprints-
to her scent and smile.
I am not the rider now...
I am the follower
left only in witness.
I stand at the last place she did,
and I watch
the bird of my life fly.
I love she does not belong to me
but only to herself.
After all, I only came this far
To see one thing-
my love, my heart, made true
in her wings
and flight.
