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...
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