I stare into the abyss of a cracked mirror
Into the gateway to my soul
I find only ashes
Not a single ember remains
No hope of rekindling those flames
Just a barren field, cold and dark

I stumble through days now
Weeks pass each time I glance
From this stack of paper I bury myself in
Exhaustion bleeds through the creases
In the corners of my empty eyes
Tired, this domicile is already vacant

The owner packed up one day
Never saying where he was going
And just left
No bills were payed
So the lights just went out
Left collecting dust

Past hoping the tenant returns
Waiting patiently for condemnation
For the wrecking ball to swing
To and fro
Eagerly and Anxiously awaiting
The first strike

Walls crash down
Boards crack and give way
Bricks soar through the air
As shingles fall in slow motion
The type of chaos
That is pure freedom


Freedom from keeping these walls up
For so long with nothing to keep them up for
That type of empty purposelessness
Destroys and rots the insides
Leaves you so tired
Just so **** tired