Escaped out of the thing I once called hope Tough as it was, I cried Never thought I would have to cope With the stillness of what has died

Over exaggerated feeling and emptiness Posses the comfort of not living...for me If I were to grasp this uselessness My emotions would run free

I'm not cold in my confussion Just filled with gloom Maybe just one more illussion Would put the cover on this tumb

Bound by inconveniant shallow desires I'm alone, but without this torchure As tough as it was, I cried in the fire But I've never been more sane, or even more sure

By: Mika Buell January 4, 2001

Inspired by: Not writing any poetry from over a month... It brought out everything I have went through...