In the beginning,
There was nothing.
A endless void of darkness.
Not an evil darkness, no.
Just an empty wasteland, devoid of life, love, and even fear.
Smothering all emotions in a blanket of anomity.

But then,
Rising from the ashes came a bird.
A bird with wings of gold and ruby
And eyes of emerald stones.
This bird brought life to the distopian plains,
And with life came joy, couriositiy, beauty, love, kindness, compassion, empathy, and adventure.
The bird flew around this arena of monotony spreading its love, reawakening the primative senses of survival.
It gave the land purpose, hope, and a naive voice saying that anything was now possible.

And then the bird,
in its full majesty
flew into the beyond,
away from the land of blossoming, trusting beauty.
The land now crumbled,
falling back into its old routine.
Back, and back, and back until it goes past unfeeling
so, so, so far past.
Into the pain and self-loathing and confusion and distress and dispair.

Never again,
The land promises.
Never again shall I trust.
Shall I love, hope, and wish.
For this hurts to much.
It requires to much to put up with this pain.
I deserve this fate.
I will live with it in my now hallowed heart
With the knowledge that you never meant to stay.
That your beauty and sweet words will never fool me again.