Sifting through the ashes
Of my blank and tired mind.
Looking back in aching
On the life I've left behind.
What has happened to this place?
It always used to shine...
This pretty face that shimmered,
Now so bitter, old and lined.

Pushing past the skeletons
That clutter in my room.
Falling off the cliff of love
To quick and certain doom.
I used to hold this crimson rose,
So certain it would bloom;
And now, it simply wilts away,
Another buried tomb...