Hollow Nothing
The fire is gone, whether forever or for awhile I do not know,
My experiments prove the point, that my vision for the world, should not grow,
That even though I tried to create happiness without sadness,
The harder I pushed, the more I knew, that what I was doing was madness.
I thought I could do while thinking, ponder the mysteries of the world without blinking,
But I was a fool to think I could break the circle,
For this I shall remain as nothing, so dull,
For neither singing or poetry from me flows as it once did,
Even now, this is much more difficult to write,
But there is a way to translate everything to poetry and so for others I bid,
That they know not of how I thought, for then they might shriek to see me afflicted by this blight.
The world has sunk to a materialism so deep,
I cannot wake them from this endless restless sleep,
Ideas, and thoughts so powerful now easily overlooked,
This realization came and my whole world it shook,
I must do, that is no longer the question,
But I am now hollow, no longer less than.
The symbol was to keep me happy while doing,
Try to maintain part of this sanity that I was losing,
Seeing now that when I try to create happiness that I only create more pain,
Silence my tongue I will try, and not try again,
To change a world that cannot be altered,
So I will change my self to survive and not be faltered.
I don't know why I hear people scream,
Or see the ghastly figure that I had never seen before,
I thought it was a challenge to make them stop, and make the world a better place so they would scream no more,
But now I realize it was a sign for me to just stop trying,
They tried to warn me that if I dug deeper, I would wish I would be dying,
But too late was there message, for now I have seen too much,
Images of horrible things I've never seen before, at my mind, they clutch.
So now I resolve myself to think no more and continue on without the flame,
To become a hollow nothing, less than even lame,
To be nominal, alive in only name,
Because happiness brings lethargy to what was once my heart,
And if I keep thinking I will no longer see each human as a work of art,
In order to make them seem more important,
My own worth must be put lower than the lowest,
So old I feel that to continue this struggle I can't,
The weight of the world cannot crush me, if I am less than my flesh,
And all that I've blessed, and all that I've cursed,
Will mean nothing more, from now until the hearse.
