Staring at glass beaded eyes,
That glare with an uncompromising sound,
I know no future, past or prsent,
I only know this bottomless pit.
Glazed over gently, too dazed to care
Wonderful tears trickle down there,
As depression lingers like a cloud
A spirit, a demon, an angel of heaven.
Nowhere to go, nowhere to hide,
Nobody that cares
A welcome gesture, a sigh,
Trying to think, too tired to do.
Parched and cold, scorched and icy
Confused, knowing, muddled, dazed and drawn.
The soul has flitted away temporarily
Devoid of emotion
Tired of words
Emptied tiredness and tired emptiness wrap around,
Like talon-like clutches of an eagle,
They're pulling me further in
Further into oblivion
Poetry