Regret

The solemn trail through the forest
Was your pleasure in the night
But it haunts you daily... there is no respite
From the anguish that you feel
As the wild-woods you had concealed
Now they are burning
Consumed by the fire

Years on, you're obliged to admit
That you have been wrong
For the toil, the loss and regret
Those arches, golden, lay broken



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