Saturday, September 17, 2005

Empty House

in this tattered palace in which i reside
some call it a mind
drawn to the open doors and empty halls
whispering through the wind's tongue
why give them that chance?
turning to lock the key, who will stop me?

Faking this consiousness for a lifetime
death creeped up on this soul years ago
the strong will remained, decaying retroactively now
in the piss poor light and love
my grave isn't level after the thunderstorms,
the earthquakes and tornados
the empty staring halls, the
fake asbestos lingering in the decayed cloth

all the same thievery and pain,
the fakeness and illusions
the lost synergy
everything is culminating in a volcano
exploding out my skull into my already premature emptiness.

1 Comments:

At September 18, 2005, Anonymous Nichole said...

This is really intense and makes me want to hug you. I really liked this line "death creeped up on this soul years ago
the strong will remained, decaying retroactively now" unfortunately I can relate to it.

 

Post a Comment

<< Home