Walkways of Yesteryear

Out here in the Shadowlands
Where the fires burn cold
And touch knows no comfort
But acrid bitter for
Broken connections
Through broken trust
From promises broken.

Here in the shadowlands
Where we know no hearth nor home
We wander the desolate streets
to haunt as the forsaken
The walkways of yesteryear
Cursed to yearn that which we lost
As we look in
Through pain-stained glass
Of the happiness that is, without.

In the shadowlands
Were the forgotten tread
And hope dies a thousand deaths

 

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