the feeling that is old

The Feeling That Is Old An old feeling, never forgotten, The presence of what once felt true. Hiding from truth, Yet convincing the heart of what could be. I walked the land of blood with you, The blood of those who came before. To me, it was fields of green Until your nature was revealed. Driven by want, I stayed. Bleeding with a smile, I lay, Memories with you, I made. To be free from the cave, I prayed. Now, all that remains is old Fragments of what once was. Pain left in place of love, For I would be mistaken to call it so.