As you stand fast, ready to begin your shared journey, she flashes a look.
The look that you caught a glimpse of when you first met her.
It is a minuscule view to her soul. A glimmer of volumetric portions.
The force of her defiance transcends her meager lifetime, mocking that she will not be broken by the likes of you. The eternal energy surges on,
” You do not have the mettle. “
And behind all that is mixed hope,
In the beat of her heart, I can hear her song to surrender.
This challenge is what beacons to me.
I will set her free.