When I was young,
you walked at my side
aiding me through struggles
keeping my head steadily lifted
but in your absence,
I've grown into the image reflected
The worst possible scenario,
a loud cry for help,
that he fails to answer.

I've laid with my demons,
drinking into oblivion,
while over and over,
the faces stay the same.
Shifting emotions,
like the change in seasons,
hello, goodbye.

Yet here I stand,
twenty-three.
Walking without knights,
because there are none to protect me.
I speak, but shakily,
plunging myself into the emptiness I feel.
There is never a moment of release,
into autumn the depression steadily leaks,
through my veins, into my blood stream,
and soon it will reach my heart,
setting fault to the charge to the battery,
and I will slump into a stand-still,
lingering on words from ghosts,
who never reach out in the walls.

My mind is a violent whirlwind,
Yet still,
I keep asking him to come home,
but it's almost like talking to a wall,
and I can't hear my own voice through the sound.

The clock is speeding up,
and soon I won't be able to move at all.
With the on-coming pressure of the world on me,
slowly on the rise,
I will be viral in a matter of days,
and I can't stop the tide
that is threatening to swallow me whole.

I can't keep crying anymore.
The tape has run out of recording space,
and all the letters i've written are piling up.
1,460 days.
The hour glass has run dry,
cracking on all the sides,
and sand pours out to encompass my feet.

I'm empty.
Walking without knights,
into the threatening storm of clouds,
winter is coming,
and I can't stand the sound.