Finding you
Unescaped, through the foliage, I look for you, my only remaining dream. Rarely does the singing of birds resound this far in the forest, amidst the dead and sleeping trees, where the verdure is so thick, sunlight never touches the ground. Perchance, if I were to find you, I would tell with only the language of eyes and gazes, "you were never there, you were never mine, yet you were everything." Calming tears of joy, painful to bear and difficult to watch, clean my cheeks and dampen my skin.
There is love, but it is drowning beneath an ocean of sadness, choking on its last breaths, flowing without freedom, dying without precedent. The forest is thick and it's hard to find you, as you seem to be so far away, so deep inside it, that maybe you are trying to escape me.
I trip, I fall and I tumble in the forest, and I hurt myself so badly that I can't go on. The world becomes the forest and the forest becomes the world and I slowly feel the forest submerge me, it's roots covering my body, the moss and grass growing over my face and the leaves burying me so deep, no one will ever see me again, and then I die, without finding you.
Goodnight, forest. Good night, world.
