The Trip

Where is this place? What kind of dream have I horribly awoken into?
I don’t recognize any of the things that I find around me, or anyone that stands here.
I could swear I had a different life, a happier one that involved She of my dreams.
I remember it all, the day we were married, how happy I felt with her by my side.

I don’t understand what this means. No one here seems to know of my memento.
Yet I clearly remember all my days with her, the love we had, and the pleasure sheer;
No matter how hard I look, I can’t find the woman I love, no one’s heard of her, it seems.
It feels like it was just yesterday, all was happy and hale; is this hell? Have I died?

No, everyone assures me I am alive, I haven’t lost my life, it seems only my heart.
I clearly feel its sluggish beat, and yet the contents are empty and oh so alone.
I feel so different, so lethargic in my days; I find no drive, no standing motivation.
I know I wasn’t terribly driven, but I don’t recall living my life so lazy.

Everything I try to do, every little thing, each morning requires such an effort to start;
Each grueling day the effort an Olympian champion must make; wears to the bone
I tried to live my life as best as I could for her, and it was filled with devotion…
Oh! The moments rushing return; when I drove her away, I had driven myself crazy.