Bound by force, yet heart so pure,
A wife in name—no love, no cure.
Their words like thorns, their hands unkind,
No place for her, no peace to find.
Her child asleep against her back,
She turned to hills, no path, no track.
A mother’s love, her guiding thread,
A home once lost, where fate had led.
Through tangled woods, through night’s embrace,
A lonely flame still held its place.
They watched it dance, they watched it dim—
Her hope went out, but her love remained.
Note: This poem is an excerpt from the folklore tale of Sopfunuo, a mother wrongfully cast out and left to wander the night with her child. It captures the moment of her departure, where the villagers watched her tiny lantern flicker through the mountains until it vanished into the darkness—her final journey home.
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