The Empty Stage

All those words, all those lines.

Written for me by those higher in status.

I dream of the Lights

But wake up fearful as if they were a Nightmare.

Will I be your star?

Am I still your son?

I’ve played so many roles over the years.

Countless roles. I cannot even number them.

When all I wanna do is go back home.

But the sad truth is…

Nobody’s Home.

4 walls corrode from all the tears as the blood stains the carpet.

Nobody’s Home.

Nobody’s Near.

I’m just trying to find the light.

I’m your son.

I’m your shining star.

I’m your mistake.

I’m your lover.

I’m just a casualty of the wars fought by Wolves.

I’m no Artist.

I just play out what I am bound to relay.

Artistry is a format I am chained to.

Driven by my deepest regrets, my greatest fears.

Emotion fuels my artistry.

It’s written genome is hidden within the 4 sides of the page.

Just as I’ve hidden within the 4 sided box of this world I call home.

I saw the Lights.

Fame

I wanted more.

Addiction

I wanted it all.

Greed.

All the while my veins go black w/ poison.

As I lay dying on the stage you set me up to fail upon… will you notice my demise or just play on without me?

Sincerely,

Your Fallen Star.