Sometimes I peek into Etheria,
Because I ponder where my soul lives,
Casually gliding in the ethereal area,
Trembling cascading chaotic abyss,
Casual sensations indulging in the journey sought.

It's overwhelming, what the power of thought can do;
Place you in realities broad and new,
A contented choke up on surprises, unexpected,
Setting a foundation for limitation is rejected.

What I found in the realm of wonder, Etheria,
From the glimpse, the journey, into an endless inside,
A song, sung so deeply and profoundly,
That only when I touched my face from hysteria,
Had I discovered my very soul, and from that, I cried.

This sorrow, unforgiven, Hollow, be thy name.

The screams, they come, the pain has won, as cursed and filled with aggression.

Give me today some mercy instead, and forgive me my debt, and I might just feel better.

And please change this sensation, and make hope believable.

Words cannot describe the feeling of sinking faster and faster into a

never-ending chain of darkness, fear for a perpetual resolve that will

never come.

A pulsation of many emotions, just to be left with the agony of

emptiness.

Hollowed out like a dead man's skull,

A soul carved out of a now disposable casket.

Hollow, be thy name.