An Extrinsic Divide

Burned into the tattered tapestry of the foreboding sky

Are faded traces of forgotten sunlight;

As the fragments of ashes rain

Scattered over the vast distance

That separates contentment from isolation

Futility is absolute, and alone and misguided are those

Who would tread this mire; so cold and deep



Lost are all who traverse these ominously twisting paths

For hope is only a mockery of its own illusion