Walking along the path you built,
Searching for the life you lost,
Darkened skies and greystone cobbles pave your way.
Stumbling and picking yourself up again and again,
Stopping to wonder if life is worth finding but you always continue on.
Sometimes you get the courage to look back. All you see are corpses rotting away.
Almost choking, nearly gagging, riddled with guilt,
The life you lost you threw away, not caring at what expense or cost.
Not caring what others think, do or say.
You push past them all, trudging along, unknowing if you or they are sane.
Over your shoulder you hear a familiar voice call out in agony. Unwilling now you are forced to go on.
Cursed, it seems, you find that you have the Midas Touch but twisted to ensure all you touch dies and decays.
