There is such a thing
that lingers in your mind
glistens on your cheeks
clings to your every thought.

That with the tantalising hope
that one day our souls may be free
once more to roam the plains
of our hearts.

Where such beauty is found,
amidst such mundanity,
like a brilliant spark of light
in a tunnel of tumbling darkness.

But yet this hope is wrenched away
this beauty reduced to ashes
of gnarled and twisted trees
in a forest for your demons' pleasures.

At their will,
at their will only,
your cheeks grow wet,
and your eyes grow moist.

And tears are
                         falling
Your heart is
                       breaking

Everything is lost.