Written by: Nick Ruff

Never has a soul made feel
The utter weight of what it lacks,
Than when by chance it’s made to see
Beyond the chasm of its lonely depths;

That peering on the world, it sees
A spark that imitates true flame,
So from that cold unfeeling sleep it wakes,
Beguiled by sudden hope to rise again;

Though waking only does it find
The traces of an empty shell –
A barren corpse devoid of warmth and light,
Wherein it longed eternal flame to dwell.