So hollow
Empty
Even the soul is tired
To stand up
Is it a slumber?
I wonder
But no, it is the state
The soul wants to be
In deep, dark corners
Hidden
From itself and the rest
Oh! The canvas is so pale
The brush that painted
Lies frail and broken
The colours
All dried and cracked
The world, once her inspiration
Lies barren and parched
The sky, the earth, the water, the fire
The elements of awe
Evoke pain and misery
Oh! The canvas will remain untouched
It seems
For colours of passion go hiding