Peter Lorenti

In the fields of Green I run, I play
The crisp grass brushing my feet, I play

Through the murky swamps I hop, I laugh
...

I shall ride the lustrous moon beams of eternal twilight
Through the pittiful sorrows of my splitting, wounded mind
The black gates, looming over my soul, baring my way
Flight I take to seek my end, in vain I struggle
...

The burning pain, never ending, always present,
rotting my crippled heart,
corrupting my soul into a black, lifeless form,
I plead for the reaper to visit,
...

I live in an alien world, strange waters left over from a midnight rain,
dead and broken leaves, scattered as foliage to fill my hollowed heart
absent tears stream down my skin, like butterflys snared in a web of sadness,
knowing and praying for its aggonising fate
...