an ice-filled
soul lies inside
so cold
so empty..
so dim the light
that shines inside
diminished by time
and a cynical mind.

i hate this person
that i call me...

starving my mind
as i smoke life by-
my desolate wasteland
to which im tied:
this barren creation,
my decadent foundation
upon which i lay
and pray for salvation.
no gods answer
no voices soothe
nothing but silence
to rouse my amuse.

faith left at the door
to which i will never
again open.

searching for
words that
don't come out
due to this haze
of smoke and vapor.
I choose to
waste my life
away...
i look back
and i can't even remember
what you said yesterday...

this is
no longer
okay...
this is something
i should change
but as always..
i think ill save that
for another day.

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