What life exists for the wretched?

Do they break free from the judgements of their present self

Or are they trapped in the past, cloaked in the forest of their beliefs?


Clouds rain down silence, extinguishing the fires within.

Isolation and misery thrive, taking hold in one’s doubt.

Blossoming into hatred, spread by whispers on the wind.


Crawling out of the forest, aged in the confidence of thousand wrong choices,

They seek the light that beckons them forward.

Always around the corner, just out of sight.


They claw at the walls of their innocence, desperate for one breath.

Trapped in the darkest corners while the earth crumbles around them.

Falling into an ocean of what might have been.


For all that we are is the struggle, drowning in a sea of helplessness.

And all that we were is what is left behind for the world to see.

A fragment of everything that we had hoped to achieve.

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