My eyes have grown cold, cold as the ice of winter. Dark as the darkness of night, how can I forgive, how can I forget? Can I ever be free from the bitterness of that fateful October 22nd night. I was 32 years old, when a man with eyes black as ink, decided my wishes were not to be obeyed. Why was it me, why was my joy of life, and my badge taken in the prime of my life?

But what came next was a miracle, I should have died by all accounts of the attending doctors. However, I had something deep in my heart to live for. I had to prove all the odds wrong. People gave me the funniest looks when I would use my handicap parking tag. I get looks like, she looks fine on the outside, but no one knows what's on the inside.

Who am I? I was a person filled with hopes and dreams. I lived the life of a princess when I was growing up, I was called princess by my great aunts. Life was a dream of everything a child could want, AND what came out of that was my giant heart. One of gentleness, trust and kindness.

I remember falling in love with a man, a man with eyes of blue. A person who I thought, could do no wrong, love was blind and it certainly blinded me. A dear friend warned me, despite the warnings, I did not listen, I went away to his outstretched arms. Arms then that were strong and always held me tight. He played basketball and football with me, he did not care that I was a tomboy, he made fun of me because I was so innocent. But those arms that were strong - would eventually break my heart, and left me to cry for a little angel that was yet to be born. As he was walking out on me, I fell down the steps, tripping over my own two feet.

As the years passed, he remained my friend, so I thought. When I was scared - he was their to hold me tight. And kiss my tears away. But now that I am not that energetic girl any longer, he has grown distant and lives far away from me. Sure, the telephone rings at 2 A.M. to inquire how I am, but is it because the end is almost near, and I'll be a rich girl again. Would I care about my heart getting broken again? The words I love you coming from his mouth, ever so sweet. That's what they were, now they've become shallow, deceitful words.

I will cry if my heart loses him, but he will not cry if he loses me, his voice is gruff, and he has made me cry over and over again. I wish when I was 21, I could have seen these disappointments coming, and not through rose colored eye glasses. Now my feelings are as clear and cold as they can be.

My life is now mine, its riches and all the heart aches. All that made me stronger, has now made me colder and careful not to let someone get close to me. I have found that if someone even touches me I jump, is that my fault?

Before, I was a trusting girl, and that hand I trusted, turned on me, someone I didn't know, took that hand to abuse and hurt me. And as I lay in the hospital on my death bed, he informs my family. Only call me if she dies, the man I trusted has become a devil in disguise.

I've finally broken the cycle of abuse. I found someone I can trust and tell all my horrors too. Someone who is a true friend, but can I ask him to hold me when I cry? I do not know.

Soon, the world will see my life through the pages of my novel. Friends lost, friends found, friends that I can now be around and trust.

In the book, I can ride like the wind on a wild stallion's bare back, ride till the sun goes down. I can hide like a wolf, keep my secrets close, only to let them be seen through my eyes, I can build a fire so deep in my heart that it glows like wildfire, It's going to take a hurricane to blow it out.

Now my eyes don't dance as much as they use to, those baby blues, are growing old, and unfortunately, bitter. I've become fragile, timid and shy.

That is lone grey wolf's thunder, lone as a lone wolf, grey as the grey in her hair, eyes of a wolf, and who now has ambitions, of getting to know each sunrise, an sunset, a girl who's heart jumps, a heart that cries like rain in a thunderstorm.

So, let a tornado blow as this story ends, the war drums have just started beating, and the breath is still soft and warm, Lone Grey Wolf's Thunder is on a roll filled with journey and has the will as strong as Iron Man. She still walks the confident walk of a police officer. Head held high, arms down by her sides. She still feels the 357 magnum tucked on her right side. But now it's a ghostly phantom feeling, only to let those phantoms feed her soul. Let her be remembered and she puts everything in writing for all to read.

She's a living legend, beautiful, with her eyes that still dance with the joys of a beating war drum. So this story comes to an end. Lone Grey Wolf’s Thunder fades back into the swamps, you'll hear her howl with the pouring rain, and clacking thunder. So let the legend live forever, and when you enter the swamps, or bayous, feel her presence in the gentle breezes of the wind.

Copywrite: 2003