The aftermath of vanishing souls,
In ultimate solitude's darkened holes,
Sitting by the calm sea's tranquil shore,
Feeling the wind's distant whispers soar.
Loneliness, a reflection of silence's plea,
Leaning back, it awaits, setting minds free.
Seeking eternity's elusive embrace,
Amidst a cacophony, humanity's race.
The illusion of closeness, distant in reality,
Existence without external banality,
Absence of noise from the world outside,
A state of being, lost souls can't hide.
After the pursuit of eternal dreams,
Fulfillment lost, so it seems.
A hotel of despair for the hopeless few,
A circus performer losing their cue,
A poet baring their soul true,
A heart, once vibrant, now dried and blue.
Novice souls, unable to bend fate's will,
What does this life make them feel?
Rebellious moans, efforts to break free,
Dissolving in the void, they find no decree.
Souls for sale, deceitful buyers they meet,
In the abyss, their essence deplete.
A pair of words crumpled, cast to the floor,
Freedom misconstrued by a foolish corps.
Word by word, they follow without a clue,
Trapped by the sheep, the naïve and true.
Unsettled minds, imprisoned in a deceitful machine,
A deserved life, a cursed touch, a scheme.
Whispers that set the city ablaze,
Justified, their dark incantations raise.
The mournful end of the evening sun,
Annihilation, where the heartless one,
Cries out, evening meal in their sight,
Asks, "Could this be the final night?"
But never an end to this endless plight.
