How I long to break free from the mould I have been set in.
Whispering and muttering nothingness, my heart has been captured within.
The paint brush has dried and the paint is peeling off my dreams.
I long to be just anybody but me.
The river has run dry and the thirst has gone away.
No longer do I need to answer questions, no longer do I need to pray.
The sunrise is no longer magnificent; it no longer promises rain.
I am left with my empty shadows and the ever enduring pain.
I am now looking for reasons; I am looking for an exit.
I would reach out for my existence or finally reach out for my sunset.
