What is life to cold hands and an empty heart?
A meaningless nothingness.
A reflection of despair.
No humanity seen.
No love.
No care.
Mere ashes of hope gone dry.
Mere tears from when one cried.
No measure of value for bodies.
None for the dead nor alive.
Never imagined I’d see yesterday through tomorrow’s eyes.
Hope now blinded once again by the truth,
Of an uncertainty in life that is all too real.
Living in a world full of broken hearts, promises, and paths.
Where is my sunshine and rainbow?
Where is my shovel to dig myself out of this hell of despair and fear?
Where is the train to Anyplace other than here?
What do you do when your heart dries out?
When there’s no blood left to shed?
When the beauty of bodies float away like dust?
When all you can feel is despair?
So many days and nights have my heart cried out,
To hollow ears who hear me not.
Hollow ears don’t hear my screams in the night.
Hollow ears know not my soul’s twists and turns.
And blind eyes don’t see my bloodshed,
When murderous hands perform the devil’s deeds.
So, what do you do when your heart cries out?
When there’s no one who seems to care?
My Quiet Fire 