Through the deserted fields,
Once alive but now irrevocably dead,
I walk alone
through the cold, bleak nights.
I am withering,
Dying with each passing moment.
Hope once burned
Bright within,
The only flare in a cruel
Unforgiving world.
And then the wind blew it out,
And as each little ember died on my heart,
They each became a
Sick reminder
That it was I who was to blame.
They gnawed away at my
Paper heart,
And soon it just another thing to add
To the growing list of things I had killed.

The stars shine like pinpricks of light in the sky,
Only to fade as I
Walk below.
The moon’s glow cannot penetrate such a thick gloom
As that which blanketed my world,
A world where darkness reigns above all else.
Fear flashes like lightning
In the sky,
And rain spatters down,
Tears falling from above.
As I deliberately walk alone
During the eleventh hour,
I approach the Edge of the world,
the Final Destination.
The tears still fall
Until, mercifully,
I know no more.