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Lost
Embraced in a familiar light with warm glow.
The light comes closer and falls away.
A struggle begins with a deeper fall into an dark abyss.
Now the cold grasp of loss weights everything down.
The black abyss opens and begins to consume everything.
Only a small light remains like a distant star in which a fine red string holds hope in place.
A faint whisper of hope begins but gives no distraction from the damp cold and pain hollowing through the darkness.
The whisper only serves as a reminder of what has been lost.
Screams from the torment echo unheard through the darkness, only the distant star keeps sanity in check.
In the faint distant star all hope for the future is placed in hope for the return of the ever lasting warmth to return.
