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Myself
September 23, 2009
My quiet sreams are stifled,
within these four walls.
Something tries to emerge,
but is lost in this purge
of sinister thoughts,
of darkness closing in,
of wanting something else,
to quiet my raging soul.
There aren't any small cracks
so that light may peak in.
No, instead there's nothing,
this nothing that is me.
This hollow emptiness,
that lies within myself.
I'm lost in this war,
that's mine alone to fight.
With these old thoughts I wait.
So that one coming day,
I'll finally be free.
© Brian H., Philadelphia, PA
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