The Quest

I'm not a poet, but I like to use poetry as a cure for writer's block, so this is a little something I wrote at around 2 a.m. and is inspired by a story I was writing at the time (still am writing, actually).
Warning: it's super depressing - I do apologise!

It's there and then it's gone.
It's a flash of light,
It's a ray of hope.
It's teasing, enticing,
You're drawn in and captured.

Your mind is consumed, your body soon follows.
You begin your doomed quest
Across tarmac and cement.
Your feet pound the streets,
Your heart pounds your chest.

You're slaying your dragon,
You're saving your damsel in distress,
You're searching for your gold.
No price is too much,
No night is too cold.

You find it in the park, in the rain.
You sell your soul in vain.
Your feet and your heart
Pound the streets once more.
You seek solace in the empty dark.

You have cheated,
You have lied.
You have broken hearts and twisted lives.
Your mind knows it's had enough,
But your body's not as tough.

You crouch in the gutter,
All scars and tear and bruises.
You quest has come to this:
This aching form,
This stinging pain,
This long awaited kiss.

Your dragon escapes,
Your damsel falls from her tower
And your gold is found -
But not by you.
You're watching your life
Fade into the night.

Your quest was for
That flash of light,
That ray of hope,
To be teased and enticed,
To be captured once more.

Now it's cold and it's wet,
But you have your shelter,
Your solace.
That was your last vein.
You pierced it in the park, in the rain.

The End

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