Under these dull eyes,

An anguish wishes to be free.

Those grey skies,

This hope dying to be.

Beneath this heavy heart,

A sorrow soul needs rest.

What was once art,

Is lead in the breast.

Inside these tired lungs,

Air searches for a home.

An exit atop these rungs,

So sadness may finally roam.

Cracked are these soles,

Lost on this familiar road.

No longer my roles,

My echoes the final load.

…

🖤

…

I feel so weary and broken, will not be surprised if I am forgotten tomorrow…🖤