The sun has set behind the iron hills,
As silence through the empty hallway spills.
I watch the world in colors, gold and bright,
While I am fading into shades of night.
A million voices ring across the street,
But none are meant for me to ever meet.
The walls are high, the ceiling is a cloud,
Where every whispered thought feels far too loud.
I build a fire that gives no heat at all,
To watch my shadow dancing on the wall.
The tea grows cold within my steady grip,
As lonely hours slowly start to slip.
I search for faces in the rain-streaked glass,
And watch the ghosts of old memories pass.
There's no one here to catch a falling tear,
Or calm the quiet ghosts of every fear.
A heavy heart is such a silent thing,
Like winter birds that have no song to sing.
I walk this road with no one by my side,
With nowhere left for hollow souls to hide.