My name is...

September 28, 2009
Inside my life is shallow
A silent hill you can’t escape
No grass to grasp all stall and gone
Under the hill the flames are burning bright
Eating away at the incoming souls
Making only ashes fall all around
Among the decay the skies are turning gray
Embedding gray fall all year long

Further inside my life is drained
A hill strived with many things
A washed away grave site worth seeing
Small child worth exploring
Seeing lights fading in the distance
With trees worth saving
The embedded roots showing no bounds

In the core my life is condemned
A hill with a battle field of gray scars reopening
The sparks of reconnection not replacing
For the sky of a forever everlasting gray

Deeper in the core my life is hollow
A sustained hill in black and white
No roads to cross to escape this life sentence
Vastly trained to follow commands of the puppet master
No thoughts to come or despair for freedom

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