Sober

The intoxication fades,
we feel the mental torment of piercing venality.
This pain leading us
to fields of unrequited affection;
Despondent emotions drifting
towards the center of the night.
We become lost, stumbling
through the void into
these broken plains; those
untended fences damaged
by the force of storms.
Demons are in the mist,
Phantoms are trampling love;
T’is the nature of the season,
it is the epilogue of desires.

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