Solitude is a great way to past the time.

Staring into nothing, hearing and seeing nothing.

But knowing there is something.



Gratitude is unsaid thanks.

Thankful for something, a little thing, anything.

Grateful for one thing.



Servitude is either unpledged loyalty or forced subservience.

It's pleading for something, working for something, lower than everything and at the mercy of one thing.



I am grateful to the silence, a slave to the darkness and forever bounded to nothing.



The air I breathe, the land I walk on the water I drink.

It is all, it is everything.



Looking out from behind steel bars in the deepest corners of my eyes.

Locked in a white room somewhere in my mind.



The low hum of serenity

The lost spark of divinity

The blurred line between imagination and reality

The inevitable lost of rationality

Falling over the brink of insanity



The overpowering rage of madness

Chains on my ankles and wrist

Staring off into the distance

Challenging the eyes in the mist



Fear and corruption.

Eternally condemned to damnation.

A fight between God and Satan

Pain and sadness coming in relation

Through blurry lens I see my mind's worse creation



These barriers impossible to break

Those eyes of mockery and hate.

I'm a slave to this threat.

No fight, no strength left.



So I sit in silence

In this stark white room

Bleeding out in silence

In the light of the lonely moon



My eyes they tell such a story

My body just keeps moving

My heart is broken

And my soul is loosing.



Solitude is a good way to past my time.

Being a slave to my mind.

I'm grateful for the darkness

This quiet place where I hide.



It is everything, anything, something, nothing.



I am nothing.
© WarningKoala