(This is quite a old poem... dedicated to a old friend.)

I am lost,

A soul in a well of tears,

A feeling in a devoid landscape...

I am a mystery,

A object to be unravled by your eyes,

Your touch...

Am I so lost to you?

I am the sacralige,

that breaks your fathers heart.

I am the crow,

That threatens your very soul.

I am the axe,

That swings towards your neck.

Am I inportant?

I am left behind,

A child in a creek of tears,

A soul fed on by monsters.

I am strangled,

By a thousand dead branches,

Fighting to save your heart.

Am I dead to you?

I am the feeling,

That mocks your heart.

I am the question,

That rips you appart.

I am the example,

of all things to come.

Will you carry on?

-Dedicated to the Sypth.