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i wish my soul was never so
that i did not live in ashes
cold and lost all things I love
or distant
hardly seen

every minute an age
yet somehow days are fleeting
gone
always gone
empty past
empty coming

i wait for nothing
i move toward nothing
i long for everything
i cry for me
for this world
where i can never be
not really
not known
not wanted
wishing to be cold

worthless words
unheard thoughts
work undone
and broken hearts
i am this
and more
so much more
but better things are held in darkness
as hope is the prisoner of Pandora's box
unopened
there is no hope
crappy angst poem
feeling lower than usual
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Submitted on
March 20, 2005
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