How strange it feels to be a hollow shell,
Yet brimming with chaos, an unending swell.
A paradox of silence and a deafening cry,
Both tethered to the earth, yet yearning to fly.
I feel nothing, an abyss so vast,
Yet shadows of memories from a haunting past
Creep in like whispers, cold and unkind,
Entwining themselves with the threads of my mind.
Empty, I say, but it’s more than that—
A weightless void, an invisible spat.
Heavy as lead, it anchors my soul,
An unrelenting burden I cannot control.
I gasp for air, but the air feels thick,
The minutes crawl by, the seconds stick.
Each breath I take feels borrowed, strained,
A futile attempt at masking the pain.
And what of life? This uncertain path—
A maze of choices, a veiled aftermath.
I see no light, no flame to ignite,
Just an endless fog swallowing the night.
I ache for purpose, for meaning to bind,
But I’m lost in the labyrinth of my mind.
Each turn I take feels like a mistake,
Each step forward, my soul starts to break.
I feel too much, a tidal wave’s roar,
Yet I am numb to my innermost core.
The laughter, the joy, the fleeting reprieve—
They vanish like smoke; I’m left to grieve.
Tell me, how do you mend a heart that’s whole
But fractured within, unseen to the soul?
How do you move when the weight of despair
Sinks you deeper and deeper into nowhere?
I scream in silence, I cry without tears,
A war within waged by invisible spears.
I want to fight, to rise, to mend,
But I don’t even know where to begin or end.
So here I stand, on the precipice of thought,
Both feeling everything and feeling naught.
A storm within, yet eerily still,
A battle of chaos versus will.
Perhaps one day, this fog will fade,
And light will seep through the cracks I’ve made.
Until then, I’ll carry this weight, this strife,
And stumble my way through the void of life.