She’ll allure you from afar.
Her tome of incantations,
Alongside her tender ministrations,
For a homeless vagabond like you
Is akin to a tattered blanket
On a cold winter’s night.
Only, your winter lasts the year round.
You’ll discover sound ground
Under your footing.
No longer consumed by the fear
Of the cracks right beneath
Opening up into dark, endless chasms.
She’ll be your safe haven.
You’ll no longer have to brave storms alone.
She’ll obscure the hurricanes,
You’ll be oblivious to the gales.
Even if that means
That the wrath of the skies will
Come thundering down upon her alone.
She’ll never flinch.