Destruction.

My tears have turned into a river of sorrow,
That spread into a stream of broken dreams.
The stream of broken dreams sprouted a flower of pain.
Next to that flower, a tree of fears began to grow.
The fruit that blossomed from the tree of fears were nightmares.
All these surround me.
What happened to my river of happiness?
To my stream of dreams?
To my flower of love?
To my tree of hope?
To my fruit of faith?
To my Wonderland?
I can't find it anymore.
I can only find this horrid Wasteland.