This absent world has no place for me. I am constantly dwelling in a dream; in my fantasy realm of magic and tales of ancient enchanted beasts. Beautiful stories woven of unconditional love and poetic majesty dance through my mind in all their imaginary splendor. And, all the while, the darkness is still lurking behind the forgotten wonders, and once they fade into the surfaces of reality, it comes for me once again. With its aggressive bitterness tearing into my heart and encasing my soul in shards of ice, it leaves only the wilted rose of 'what was' behind; after vanquishing my silent pleas for more than just this drudgery of prolonged existence. I yearn for those memories, those images of wondrous things, and all hope dies with them. Enshrouded in the bleakness of longing, I must surely accept my defeat, but for the want of something I must never own or see. So I waste away in my lonely dungeon and conjure the images of my desires, leaving a trail of wistful tears after they've gone...

Someday you might see. Someday, perhaps the wondering of my mind will fancy a visit to your own. Someday you will be a part of my sorrowful world and know my pain; hear the echoes of the unattainable, feel the searing emptiness of knowing, of wanting, of love...