For where does a hollow go…

To what desert, to what languished dream, that makes no wonder. Breathe out vitality, breathe in finality, the trojan horse of bated breath.

A pariah name forsooth remains, a delinquent debutante, boldly claimed a fire once tamed, devouring all that except hate and rage.

Oh where oh where does a hollow go…

Empathy the cannibal, gluttonous and ineffable, feeding the dark ways, ageliscism build this prison, overridden still keep hidden, how much it hurts, as the burdens reliquary perturbs the fixtures of times estuary.

How can a hollow go…

through streams of disturb, to in the end reemerge, drowned on emptiness.

Where does one lay, between the fruit and the fly, to live or to die, all wrapped in a lie. When filled to the brim still feels so inconceivably incomplete, innate interpretations, interest only inner demons dancing devilish footstep over trampled remembrance.

The bliss of the sane, never seeing how deep the claws of sadness fester, stuck in a heart longing for yester, fear not the tidal wave of isolation. But frighten away all your chances, scarcely seeking remuneration.

Where I ask—where can I go….

So Violently, with a strangled cry, failing to be heard, guardian of the word, it pleads with anguish, to give it sound release.

And the rest…..

……is silence.

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