Traveling through the wraithfields
Fleeting faces, and unending pain.
Daylight of darkness yearns for the
night to come, when all that flees
into shadow reveals itself to me.
Why did I listen to the dark voices?
Can I no longer resist because I am weak,
or am I weak because I can no longer resist?
Hope is but a few footsteps away,
and yet I feel as though I tread the
path of distruction into oblivion.
Which way can I turn, when every direction
is ringed with dispair, whose sharp edges
rend my soul and leave it to stand alone,
Naked and bereft, for all to witness?