The sun rises, and through my window, starts to shine
But nothing takes to color
Light does not reach these eyes of mine.
This place has nary iron bar,
No Gatekeeper to keep me inside.
Yet each step I take,
Is heavy with my mistakes.
Shackled to my past, I stay imprisoned in my mind.
Brushing my teeth, I see myself in the mirror
My expression is not the joyful kind,
as I can still hear her,
The friend I'd give it all to see one last time.
"You've lost your reason, You've lost your pride"
Aloud, I thought I was thinking
but the one speaking
Grabbed my face from behind the glass and dragged me inside.
Before me is a vast forest painted in pantomime.
A voice echoes from beyond the branches.
Creatures venture out in contorted, crooked stances
each muttering indictments against my crimes.
Covering my ears,
dodging their grasp, I run in fear
sitting beneath a tree in silent tears,
trying to fathom how I got here.
In front of me, there sits a puddle,
at the bottom of what was once a lake,
in the midst sat a large stone,
I could neither move nor break.
I touched the inscription upon it,
The Forest made a miserable tone
my eyes began to water
pain echoed from beneath my flesh, the center of my bones
Kneeling in the puddle, I wept aloud, for I felt so alone.
I then realize that this is a place I've known
this stone is marked with her name...
In the water, words began to float and glow.
This water is the well from which my rhymes used to flow.
This place sits deep inside.
Even should you pierce my hide,
I couldn't show you where this Forest resides.
And by rules I can neither fathom nor break,
by which I can only abide
I write this story to the world, scared, tired, and trapped inside.
I can hear them coming!
Into the darkness, I start running,
Yet still, I am surrounded by enemies.
Their laughter meshes stirring up old memories,
Filling my heart with regrets that threaten to be the death of me.
My own voice shouting "I could have done better!"
In this fight to survive, I myself am the enemy
If I am to come out alive, I have to set myself free.
But I do not listen, no matter how much I plea.
Almost as if the Forest knows
My cries for help come back as distorted echoes
And the creatures follow the screams.
I hide beneath a tree's roots,
cursing myself for how pathetic I seem.
From the leaves of the ground a small shimmer
brush away the dirt, a shining gleam.
A hint from above, a hobby I used to love
Lay here forgotten in form of a sword.
And so began this quest against myself,
A defeat I cannot afford.
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