Light strays into the realm of fear; stumbles,
Wanders where darkness illumines the depth
Of the heart and the breadth of the woe;
Where oblivion stares into the unfeeling eyes
Seized by a decimated, uncertain tomorrow.
Here, the rain never pours, the sun never shines,
A cloak of animosity pervades the land,
And every bud is trampled before it can bloom.
But light, feeble with fatigue, wends its way,
Where every step is one step closer to doom.
Life drips through the veins and slips,
Like grains of sand devoured by a conflagration
That rekindles like a phoenix reincarnated from clinker,
Traversing the outlandish tracks, light passes
Through the home that mends no tinker.
A cut-throat battle between hope and circumstances
From which emerges no loser or victor,
Instead, ravages that bespeak the baleful tale.
But ah! Light, bereft of half its brightness,
Has breached the tainted walls of the realm so frail.