Like a wayfaring soul who's lost track of direction.
She meets an unusual encounter, sits down and starts pondering about the road ahead... But she thinks about all the hatred and hurt that she had left behind - back at that place called 'home'. She quivers with doubt and much uncertainty. On the gentle gradient of the hill she sat, hugging her knees as the gentle breeze caressed her cold cheeks. The sun peeks over the horizon as the question rang in her cranium, incessantly...
Should I turn around...
Perhaps staying on the hill would be the best choice, she thought.
Or should i stay...?
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