Thorns. They stab into my neck,
Liquid, thick and golden seeps from the wounds,
Pooling into reflectionless puddles at my bleeding feet,
The pain renders me useless to speak so instead I weep,
The same slick liquid runs down my face
I am a lonely soul amongst 6 brilliant sparks,
All with a purpose; all with a meaning,
I sit empty and afraid, attempting to fathom,
why chains bound me, why I lost my voice,
You stand above me, looming over me,
Every light cast a shadow, so I must be yours,
The most brilliant light of them all and you stand over me,
Holding a match lit by the memories I have made with you,
Your soulless eyes are looking down at me but they don't see me anymore,
They see opportunity.
