This is my endless field,

A place only I know.

And the umbrella that i wield

Acts as my sword.

Here I fight my demons,

That sprout up in the heather.

They come when I am dreaming

And many a storm they weather.

The wind acts as our audience,

Gusting in delight.

A witness to our deadly dance

Who only wanes at night.

I love my endless field,

Dispite the pain it brings.

For, in time I will heal

And it will turn to spring.