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After such an irrational display of emotion, how am I to find the hope that will inspire me. Am I just bored of this town? Now that I am discovering secret havens where my soul might dwell, guided by the gentle breezes that secretly harness my dreams. In reality, it is all the same, just another temptation of a lonely ghost that is desperately seeking to quench his thirst for companionship. Never mind the pains destiny puts me through and the hardships my heart is wielding. My weakness shall be my greatest strength. Experience has made me older and the doors to the mausoleum of my heart are slowly closing without hope. As rain washes and scars over the wounds in my heart, it gets colder. Every night I am able to make less sense of it. The solution just vanishes before me. I am resilient as I waken from my dream, wishing someone would revive this withered flower. It’s a beautiful disgrace this emptiness that fills my heart. Hollow are my thoughts as words spurge upon this page. In this world of casualties, there’s always the need for a sacrifice and a piece of me willingly dies with each passing day. On my meager inside I am weak and I am aware of it, even if I refuse to reveal word of it.