Between the Trees
What sometimes looks like heaven can turn out to be hell.
Between the trees I wander. No real place to go no place to call home. So I wander between the trees no real destination in mind. The sounds of nature trees bristling in the wind the chirping of the birds, serene in its silence and calmness almost like it's frozen in time.
Unending and unrelenting, a personal purgatory, I walk between the trees. What felt like heaven turned into hell. The path is unending and the scenery unchanging, no chains to keep me. The truth to damnation is not chains and fire but of nothingness, a bleakness of image and of mind. Forced to walk between the trees, screaming at nothing for an answer begging for an escape from this unchanging hellscape of silence. Begging to the Gods for a reprieve, silence their only answer. I walk between the trees.