The Valley
Wandering aimlessly in a cold, dark mist,
I follow, but my feet do not lead me—
tethered to something I cannot see.
A world kissed with sadness,
where sunlight is forgotten,
and things are born only to nightmares.
Soulless demons laugh in a sea of madness,
but they speak through me.
I listen closely to the raven’s call,
its wings cutting through the dark,
a question too afraid to answer.
"Praying hard for our world not to end,"
I whisper into the void,
but it does not answer.
We ask,
Will it be for the penance of men?
We bury the answer beneath our sins—
but the road leads back to the same place,
again and again.
Follow north for the call of the wild,
but the wild does not need us.
It is the cry of the children we’ve abandoned,
the forgotten cries of innocence.
Lay in fear as the dark raven crows—
it carries a truth we dare not face.
He lived on this earth for a time and a half,
long enough to see the way it unfolds—
the firstborn of all men will die,
and this death was written before the ink dried.
He played a tune to the old man’s laugh,
but we no longer hear it.
Ask them the questions. Tell them no lies.
But the answers have been forgotten,
lost in the wind and the dust.
A cry for freedom
becomes just another whisper,
drowned by the noise we create.
The words mean nothing anymore.
Mind over matter,
cry over sins,
but neither will save us.
Their lives are over now,
ended before they began,
frozen in time,
no chance for redemption.
Into the valley of death, fear no evil—
the words burn as they are spoken,
because they are not a command,
but a surrender,
a recognition that we are already here,
already walking towards what cannot be undone.
We are the lost,
the forgotten,
the ones who have crossed the line
we can never return from.
Into the valley of death, we march.
Forward, no matter the cost—
though the cost has already been paid,
in blood, in cries, in silence.
But we move onward,
because that is all that’s left to do.
Bring me your souls,
and I’ll make it our last.
The raven’s shadow swallows the light,
and we are left in the dark.
Into the valley of death, follow me now.
No more lies, no more pleas—
the end is not an end, but the beginning
of what we have always been.
Copyright © Aaliyah O'Neil | Year Posted 2025
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