Realm of Thorns

The man layeth in a patch of thorns,  
the brier poisoning this thoughts with every twitch.
 
A life sentence of deserved misery, gasping for breath, strangled by the words that he couldn't keep.
 
oh, what fate for this misbegotten fool.
 
Residing in the pits of despair and reflection the man falls to it's depths,
echo's of a bitter sweet life cutting into his very self, bleeding a ichor of sorrow.
 
draped in a vail of unattainable dreams, desperate to shed a tear, entwined in the memory's I hold most dear .
 
the man questions "why" as if the answer isn't known to him, as if he shared no part in his demise.
 
he knows he could have been better, he knows he could have tried harder, he knows it's to late.
 
so he lays at the bottom nested in a pit of thorns forever more, unwilling to love again.
 
for in his heart he knew that he found the only one for him, so unreplaceable  
that he could never love the same again.  
 
( maybe in his next life, he'll get it right)