Freja wrote a song,
a song, she said,
about the time
she was locked in.

A song about
echoes of her past
the light that guided
her apparition back home.

And as her voice
soared into the night,
it carried with it
a message of despair
message that no matter
how far the light seems,
there is always
something
waiting to be found.

A door perhaps.

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