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.
