Desolate


Living this life all alone.
In this prison, once called home.
Grasping tendrils of hope escaping.
Appeasing those only traipsing
through my life with no importance.
Distracted only by circumstance.
I do not wish to be saved,
Nor my demons to be sleighed.
Only want for an escape,
before it truly is too late.
Fate, a mistress, so confusing.
Whilst in her grasp, always losing.
Crave only what I had before.
What now seems as only lore!

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