The Blackened Fields

I look out and see the lesser of me
Blackened fields where once had played
Derived from self-chains I had merely made
Keeping me from the other side of the hill

Wanderers watch unwilling and absent
Shades of others press along side us
Groups consort pulling toward others
Growing stronger the power of nothing

The decision hazy, rarely describable
Created for an instance, but not some for others
Bliss will be nice set only for a price
Not even for the most precious of mine
Will I go back to the time
Of blackened fields where once had played