Comforting was the simple innocence of a distant field
All was clear and warmest memories were the yield
While within a head covered by youth’s unkempt hay
Were delusions of years swept up in the winds of May.
Sounds of the field are lively like the time of the scene
Uplifting being the result of this laughing choir’s sheen
Yet all kept a foolish yearning to be in a different place
They could not know that their friends they would erase.
Closing in on field’s edge a temptatious forest looms
Rising from the earth like a thousand wooden tombs
Holding the remnants of the liveliness our hearts lost
A soon to be memorial to the field which had not a cost.
So field falls away around the shrill tone of a bell chime
While we waste our waning innocence counting the time
Never thinking twice about the bliss that we are leaving
We throw ourselves into a wood blackened with grieving.
Within this forest we live forever toiling in pools of labor
Only to achieve fortune by exiting the woods with sabre
Instead we cast away the last semblance of our free life
Severing the branches that had pushed away any strife.
Lakes of wealth begin as appealing to everyone’s eyes
Soon we see ugliness with the washing away of the dyes
We push each other aside for access to increased gain
Violence so prevalent we can’t be certain we’re still sane.
There is one lake that rather being of wealth is of regret
This lake reveals that with youth ugliness was not beset
As youths we made promises now questioned in epiphany
Have we now become everything we swore we’d never be?