Hollowed walls,
Minds empty like an acorn one finds on a path in a dim forest,
When hunger starts to consume the body,
Only to find the hope of salvation, feedom from hunger`s grasp, was in vain.
An illusion brought on from demons and forest spirits to break the mind,
Like waves break the sea shore.
Gradually.
Consistently.
Until the mind cracks under the pressure, and the body,
As the mind has become,
food for the forest.
Blank faces,
Blank eyes, as if all feeling has been drained like a leaky faucet left overnight.
Eyes empty as if a vaccum was sweeped over them,
Leaving nothing but the bear essentials to see. But not truly see.
Eyes that no longer see love, desire, or hope.
Extinguished, like a flame in pit is drowned by a few sprinkles of water and sand.
Barred windows, locked doors
Continuously dehumanize, like a once fearful lion is turned kitten.
Complacent for the food he is delivered daily.
No longer the fierce animal he once was.
Painted ships and stars on the wall act as a reminder of what was lost,
The thrill of adventure, the will to live,
And the warmth of a lover`s comforting arms.
Colors, once bright and clear as a rainbow, now pacify;
Weaken;
And cause pain since the eys have grown accustomed to darkness.
Even the first true power we posses, our voices,
Given to us for use the moment we are born,
The last defense against denial and constant rejection,
Soften,
Make to a whisper, until the loudest Howl the earth has heard, becomes nothing but a fragment in time.
A whisper.
So soft that even Echo herself could not repeat it.
Lost to the Beats of its generation.
The last thing to go is your own movement.
Your arms strapped around your body, tight as a boa constricts its meals,
Placed into a jacket.
Providing the last comfort one will ever feel.
