on a faraway land

far away, even hidden from the sky

where the sun it self cannot lay it’s eye

remains a burrow where i heed

and Where i remain detached from everything I need

Where I have gathered my sorrow as seed

for a tree to grow, but i have, just weed

In that place where I frequently go

where the sky are rocks and flowers are snow

where the light is the depth of night

and the state of calm is harboring fright

I am from the hills beyond the reach

I am the sage but nothing I preach

On this solitary penance I embark

I am not moving till I endure all my dark

This has never really been the plan

but the horror from soul to mind

and from mind to the soul will span

and I do go back and forth with my visions

no end to the cycle, the cycle is repetition

The sweet smell of hope does not deter me

the more the nail drives in

I am equally more determined

My body is my cave, my coffin

And i feel caged, even more than often

every sun rise to me is obsolete

days against  nights are only victory lamenting for defeat

I have since long ago stopped the clocks ticks

and from my stony self only gloom reeks

I am the suction, I suck in the feel

when the lie of joy shatters

on empty heart, the stench will reveal

we are rotten at our hearts

from hope a million time it  dies

faith is only a zombie on the loom

and I wear a heavy heart

only dead dreams fill the room

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