Could I be more empty than what I am, I 'm a room
within so many buildings of what are now vacant with
vagrants of contested thoughts.

Please don't think because my rooms are empty that
there is nothing in there even though it doesn't
look desolate it is full of lingering shadows of thought.

We fill the hollow vastness of non relative meanings
with nothing but essences of what we lumbered on?
My thoughts are of empty consequences nothing less.

Can you see in the deserted realms of a once awoken
mind, now it is hollow as each room of thought became
depleted of anything but unoccupied stagnant thought.

Somebody once told me that to love would be the strongest feeling of
All. Yet I discovered a new feeling the other day, I felt
Vacant. Surely most have felt this at some point in their lives. My mind was
Empty. I sat there for a while contemplating what that meant, to be vacant.
Over and over again, but could not yet come to a conclusion.
Ultimately, I was confused. I turned to my mother for answers but
Right at that moment, as I turned, I realised that it isn't just an emotion.
Something physically leaves your body for your mind to become this.
Oddly enough we are frozen almost, even for the shortest amount of time,
Under a spell perhaps? No, not a spell, but a curse. And just
Like that I understood, for us to be entirely conscious, we need someone to
**save our soul.

stagnant, i look to the nightlife for temporary comfort,
gazing into the pseudo love,
into the vacant souls.
empty, i search for a piece of myself in passersby,
learning from their motions,
i steal fragments of truth.
lustful, i plead for the chance to unveil myself,
to present my skin, to be adored aggressively.
but i am floating,
my veins grey,
my eyes opaque,
my blood frozen.

I have always been cleverly observant

But during our time
I failed to realize
Your eyes
disguised
A broken girl
hidden inside

I couldn't find peace so I went out into the rain,
To find a way to stop the pain.
Let my brain unravel at the seems.
Flow away with the drops down the stream.
Little boat in the rain.
Float away, float away.
Sailing from me while I stay anchored with empty thoughts.
At peace -  but vacant.

In your vacant look
Dwells my end.


-- Eleanor

Listen to the winter wind
Hear the cold on nature's breath
Get inside before the moon
Or you will surely catch your death

There's nothing for protection
When winter wind comes through
It's nature against your will to live
You'll lose, that much is true

The desert is a harsh place
With heat that matches hell
But the cold you feel in winter
Will do you in, so fast as well

It's a land of extreme harshness
A place where you can surely die
It's a place so full of beauty
It's enough to make you cry

In summer you are melting
In winter frozen hard
You may ask why I stay here
The answer's easy pard'

I live here for adventure
I'm a cowboy through and through
I share my life with Mother Nature
I guess, it's just the thing I do

I'm gonna die here in the desert
But, not because of winter wind
I'll die here for one reason
So I can come back again

The desert, she recycles
Takes what's here back home
I'll die out here in the desert
But, until that time....I'll roam