Purging Fog

Lost in an endless forest
Black walls of wood surround my feeble self

Antagonised by that which does not feel
I am brought to my knees by its prescence

The clouds of ages gather around me
Suffocating me with my own desire

A moon of ice bears witness
To this slaying of a pathetic soul
Damned to walk shrouded in black
Amongst the walls of hating wood

My newfound love for hate
Now fills the void within me

As I bathe in the blood of my former self
I am born anew

With their hunger sated once again
The dead hills will forever stand tall