It’s a trap,
That beautiful view,
The view from Heartbreak Ridge.

Until you take a flying from the jagged cliff,
and see it for what it really is.

It’s a brutal ugly canyon-
at the bottom,
wilted roses slowly die.

Their thorns are knives,
they stab you,
in the head,
the heart,
the back.

They create slowly flowing creeks,
in the blood from your veins,
and the tears from your face.

They scratch at your eyes,
like nails on a chalkboard,
slowly drowning out your sight,
they make you blind.

Blind to the world,
so that you’ll stay,
waiting at Heartbreak’s Ridge.

Make you forget,
forget your loneliness,
your pain,
but along with it,
the memory of joy.

Until one day,
a hand reaches out
bringing you over the edge.

Your sight is finally returned,
you blink,
just to make sure,
it’s finally true,
you’re no longer alone.

Freedom
is escape,
from blindness,
from loneliness,
and  from pain.