On scarred earth
one woman treads
as air lingers thin
while humanity's in threads.
On hungry plains
one woman stands
with compatriots trained
to shoot for glory, kill to win.
In one woman's heart there stirs unrest;
as the swarming black hawks
circle above the roof of her head.
With a narrow road that has no forks,
one woman's heart is eternally upset.
Nonetheless, she holds onto life
in one valiant but hopeful grasp.
Marching on with a head held high,
one woman and one heart
is the dying earth's lone spark.