Cold landscapes,
desolate isolates,
can't find my way,
out of those wasted days,
treasured fates,
glorious remains,
of your ways.

Suppose finding a way,
would see you out of those dark days,
clawing at night,
lovers delight,
somewhere finding the right fright,
a day to lead you out of the night,
permanently.

Journey to the end of the earth,
trip over the edge,
bleeding edge,
can't seem to escape your night,
a darkness shining so bright,
feeling your way out of the cave,
smelling the scent of better days,
all of your mind journey to come.

Forgotten and lost,
could not bare to hold the son's cross,
even the disciples considered you cross, 
much to revere under a lost...siren,
awaken days,
coming further away,
postulated negated exterior,
closing in,
found your escape,
on your journey.