Hollow

life is not a gift but a horror
it tears into you like it's easy
then you turn around to see a gun in the corridor
and it batters you around until you're queasy

leaving nothing but a hollow human
fallen, aching on the ground
searching for an answer to its question
aching for a life profound

it feeds off your depression
untill you arent even capable of seeing straight
leading you to blind confession of things you've never done
you're never the prize you're just the bate

you're nothing but an old bulding waiting to crumble
and all it wants is to watch you fall
it doesnt make you humble
it makes life the master and you the doll

i am that hollow human
i know the pain it brings
i have that depression
life is slowly killing me with its burns and stings.