Water drips the steady flow of rememberance:
  Lost in this lovely place.
It's too dark to see the past,
too bright to make out the future.
Pain still aches,
    memories still burn.
My back is still bleeding
  from where you stabbed me again.
I don't understand
and I'm straining to see
   but I can't.
The twilight of this place is tainted
  with drops of rememberance
the stream from the ceiling.
And for some reason,
  I can't see you anymore.
I don't know if it's good or bad...
My back doesn't ache so much now,
   So maybe it's good.
But those whispers still echo through these tunnels
  of the things you've said.
And forgiving you won't be easy
even though you were never a friend to start with.
                  However...
           I must try.
The water drips,
                       the wind blows...
And for once
    I feel like maybe
        I can live again.