On a chilly, winter evening,
I kindled a fire to keep me warm,
And as I gazed upon the horizon,
I noticed the approach of yet another storm.
Then, it finally dawned on me, like it should have long before,
That the chance of being found on this island is never more.
Thus I extracted from my breast pocket, her picture, once more,
Realizing that I can no longer keep ajar Hope’s door,
So I stared at her face longingly, for the final time,
And then I finally tossed her image into the smouldering fire,
Burning with it her memory, and my Freedom’s desire.