But I carried on,
Dragging the heavy chains,
Along with me,
Days turned into months, and months into years.

And I still walked through the crowd,
Still I dragged my feet,
Still I moved my almost lifeless body,
Through the non-existent scenery.

But as the old saying goes,
There's always light at the end of the tunnel,
A pot of gold at the end of the rainbow,
Like wishing upon a shooting star.

And there at the end of my tunnel,
A simmering light calling me,
I just knew it was waiting for me,
It was calling me.

The people around me,
Nearing closer to the end,
Weak smiles on their faces,
On mine too.

And when I finally reached,
The end of my journey,
I felt the weight leave my shoulders,
My once dragging feet, now at a walking pace.

I looked down at my hands,
The colour returning to them,
The weight lifting,
And I noticed,
So did my phantom chains.