The Hollow Pursuit
They said nothing lasts forever—
so I chased the wind’s cruel jest,
through streets where ghosts don’t remember,
and love is just a fleeting guest.
I gathered dust in empty rooms,
kissed echoes soft against the wall,
built altars out of hollow looms—
but silence was my greatest fall.
Oh, nothing was a faithful prize,
it never left, it never lied,
yet when I reached with starving eyes,
it slipped like smoke right through my pride.
Now take it all—my breath, my name—
but leave me just one thing to hold:
a hand to pull me from this flame,
a voice to warm the endless cold.
For nothing fills a hollow chest—
but you? You could make nothing less.
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