Within The Jail Of The Unfortunate

Beyond forests and rivers
At a place that no one knows
Only the moon can witness
The distress of that hopeless man

Relaxed by the soft rain
Scared by the crackling sound
Of wind in the trees
The Unfortunate takes a rest
In his land of loneliness
Believing that his life
Is the best he could ever have
And that escaping in his refuge
Will forever bring him cure
To his strongest pain

Complacent about his denial
He strives to find
Fulfilment through escape

Tempting to heal his biggest wound
And finding refreshment
By breathing a sweet pure air
Under dark green leaves

Standing far away from
The senseless uproar
And the cruel judgement
Of the common people

He trapped himself into
The darkest, most beautiful jail
The jail of the Unfortunate