I dwell within these hollow walls,
Where echoes whisper, yet nothing calls.
A heart encased in tempered glass,
Unyielding still, as moments pass.

The chords of feeling, frayed, unstrung,
A melody unsung, undone.
No fire burns, no tempest stirs,
Just quiet ash, where passion blurs.

My mind, a labyrinth void of light,
Each thought a shadow, dimmed in flight.
I reach for words; they slip away.
Like fleeting ghosts at break of day.

Desire, ambition, hope’s faint spark,
All swallowed whole by this aching dark.
A soul once sharp, now blunted steel,
Too numb to hurt, too lost to heal.

I build a world of empty skies,
Where laughter fades and silence betrays.
A kingdom ruled by vacant kings,
Where reason folds and sorrow sings.

Yet still, a tremor whispers near.
A hairline fracture, crystal clear:
That somewhere, past these granite veins,
A pulse still beats beyond these chains.

So let the heart rebuild its map,
Let calcified thoughts find their gap.
For in this realm of stone and shade,
The smallest fissure can cascade.