Alone and haunted in the woods,
Standing in the midst of trees,
You close your eyes and...
…Think of places you’d rather be.
It’s a golden palace,
Flowers blooming, plants growing,
It’s a place filled with happiness and joy;
A place definitely worth knowing.
It was filled with little boys and girls,
And busy, but happy maids.
Of course you were there too,
Staring out at the lovely cascades…
Oh, but how could it go so wrong?
You open your eyes and reality kicks you.
There you have it, your golden heart!
They way it was, seemed so untrue.
Where the children once played,
Laid broken glass and burnt debris.
Where we used to sit every day,
Laid the remains of a once pretty tree.
Where the shiny stained glass windows were,
Laid a spectacle of rust and mess.
Where the happiness of the kingdom was,
Laid a now empty, void-like chest.
How can a place be called a home,
When there is nobody there?
How do you live a life,
Where there is simply no one to care?
Your eyes are shut once again,
And you start to hear the people screaming.
Then you see it: a fiery explosion,
And somehow you knew you weren’t dreaming.
In the distance you spotted your assailants ,
In a group, dancing and chortling,
And you could do nothing, kept quiet,
Silent, as you just started falling.
When you finally pick yourself up,
You look around for somebody, anyone!
Yet somehow, you know you are alone,
And down on you shines the midnight sun.
And above you, now,
Shines the same calling sun.
And you give yourself up willingly,
Just so you won’t be the only one.
And no, no longer will you be alone...