Glide through a glen with me,
Made of my memories:
Painful portrayals of
Personal effigies
Drowning in dread, and the
Dreams that will ever be
Ripping through every reverie.

Soar through a sky with me,
Clouded by cries of re-
gretfully festering
Feelings inside of me,
Longing for love and a
Lover of piety,
Someone who someday won't lie to me.

Walk down a way with me
Desperate for deity,
Scouring for someone to
Save me from slavery,
Hanging for hopefulness,
Hardened by hate and the
Fear of freedom as a rarity.

Take every turn with me,
Listen and learn from me
Buckling under the
Breaking and burdening,
Trying to cherish a
Childish eternity,
Praying for pref'rence in purgat'ry.

- p. winter