Are said to live inside;
last I checked, mine's dead.

At times I burn
with rage, with pain, with passion
but like everything else
over time its fades
and gives way to nothing
I feel no hurt or grief
which should come as a relief
but I also feel no merriment
not even content
just a numb acceptance
that this is how things will be
I’ve strived for better before
but this feeling
has rooted itself to my core
It's putting out my fires,
wildest dreams, and wishful desires
So as the air clears
I'll wait for the next match to catch
And pray that this time it lasts