Abyss Of Wrong Belief Poem by Brandon Owens

I happened upon a place covered in mist
Through the dark tall woods untended
Travel across the craggy broken earth
Follow the old path down from there
Careful, the way is steep and unclear
When all sides are surrounded high
By the ever reaching stone fingers
Dyed blue from their melancholy
There unanswered hands outstretched
Beckoning for Annie to be comforted
Show your face to the mountains
Simply walk in the door that opened
The place is cold, moist with disease
Lies were told with no one to please
Annie's death was never pardoned
Here or there you might find a tree
The souls are tending to the garden
Despite the fact no sun could reach
Darkness is winning against the light
Casting the never ending feel of night
Yet there are no pale moon beams
And no sky to place your dreams
They use Annie's blood as plant feed
Waiting for the trees to grow their fruit
Once harvested they'll plant the Seed of Truth
Hope is scant in an atmosphere of gloom
No one speaks of the impending doom
The souls work feverishly
To change the Abyss of Wrong Belief