Wandering through a forest of misremembered memories.
Milk curdles in the sun's ceaseless heat.
Love fades away into a blood red sky.
My mind has been broken, like a tape being played until it was frayed.
Nirvana is a lie that hopeless souls cry for.
Reality and depression are the only forms of mental suppression I cannot deny.
There is something down in my heart that just will not die.
Like some form of misplaced nostalgia, my soul calls for her.