Where do the Lost Wander?

Is it a cold, dark place

With dense clouds

That block all visions

Of beauty and intelligence?

Is it barren,

A wasteland of dreams

With no hope?

There must be a darkness there,

For why else

Can the lost not find their way home.

Maybe they don’t want to come home.

Home is where everyone argues.

It’s behind closed doors,

away from prying eyes.

A place that gives up,

A place where you die.

Where do the lost go

When they can not be found?

How does one know?