In the field like an ocean, shrouded in mist;
Rippled by a breeze that ceases to exist.
In the land where not a single soul has been seen;
This is the land of inbetween.

The dull silence leaves one’s ears ringing;
But it is so serene and majestic it sounds like singing.
Alone is one in this desolate place;
This region no one dares to face.

So where will one go;
When desperation clenches their soul?
To return would lead to a life of pain;
And to not would leave the others to perish in vain.

Or one could reside here drowning in sorrow;
For here the days melt into each other, and there is no tomorrow.
In the land where not a single soul has been seen;
This is the land of inbetween.