I run to the moors, where the wind calls wild
And screams in my face like a tormented child,
Alone there, I stand, beneath the rain’s cry
Watching splintering sunlight lift the earth to the sky.
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A bit mysterious, this poem! 'Set free' and 'ghost' perhaps implying that she killed her lover (I, too, have one - 'Coming to my Senses') . Very well-written. Thanks for sharing. -chuck