I run to the forest of death and grief.
Find myself lost, surrounded by trees.
Listening to the whispers
That attempt to comfort me.
Another loss. Another leaving.
Feeling deep into the grieving.
Have you ever found the lost forest of death and grief?
Where summer sun cannot reach.
A place that speaks in wails and moans.
Desolate words and unspoken tones.
Every soul enters the forest floor.
Rarely everyone leaves the same anymore.