There is a place, a special place of mine.
A great valley where lovely larks fly.
When loneliness reign I would venture.
Into the valley to basks in its glory.
The melodies of a thousand songbirds ever fluttering.
How simply pretty it was to hear.
Their singing washing away sadness in my heart lingering.
Inspiring hope in me to carry forth and bear.
Bear what? You might ask of me.
To bear the creeping realization of inevitability.
An Inevitability no what matter how much I desire not be true.
For I, as much as I dread it, am the last of humanity.
Devoid of love, purpose nor a place to call home.
I might be crazy for wanting to live.
For what good is there to be alive.
If the life I bear was simply to survive.
And yet... I did carry on, through the misery and melancholy.
For it wasn't the present nor future binding me to the live.
But the nostalgic past O' so ever lovely.
Of a better time, before the roaring bombs came.
Those precious days spent with my family.
Of a time where I would play soccer with my friends in sunday.
In the valley where lovely larks fly.
Those precious moments recollected, making me very sad when I say goodbye.
