Fire

I am
A hollow shell. A vessel carrying blood and organs around the earth.
Touring continents and cities.

Behind my vacant eyes there is nothing special.
Only the rotting remains of what used to be,
Left unwanted inside my skull.

Stories and poems left like abandoned children.
Their happy endings never given.

The solid white bone is my own prison.
Entrapped within myself.

I sometimes worry that I am immortal.
My mind can be so alive that sleep refuses to visit.

And I fear the dark lifelessness which pursues my body constantly,
Like a lion stalking prey,
will never find my mind.

It will forever live on in blinding, painful reality.
A candle burning in the night.