When emptiness grows a garden in your soul,
Your faults, like tree roots tangled in dry soil.
What is left to do, but tend to broken bone?
Hope for tomorrow, lost in dead seeds sewn.
You are built for greatness, a foreign voice calls,
What does that mean? My thoughts, trapped in these walls.
Unheard and glazed over, sugar coated, waisted pain,
Expectations feel wildly wrong, flooding down river drains.
Where's the space, where can I breathe fresh air?
Where is relief? How can I climb up from this despair?
Piles of rain soaked sharades, mountains of thunder,
An empty gaze, tired from a battle once filled with wonder.