A dream and no message

Deep somewhere in my mind, I was riding through a ground of all fire with something to tell someone far away, but I didn’t know what the message was. that’s when I found my inward pressure to be remembered. It’s something I can’t forget, It’s weighing down my hand, I’m sure to fade. My biggest threat is having nothing to say. I have no heart under floor, nor wings on my horse. I want to be read but fear I will only be an echo.. the softest one and faintly heard. You learn early on that all fingerprints are different, but maybe only by one line. So what one line can I give to be written past my own hand?