🔒 Closed The Perfect Mask

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Soul Calibre

༒тнє тєямιηαтσя༒
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My heart is a shell,
A hollow home to wear.
Pain has no place to dwell,
Though sorrow fills the air.

Empty, like a summer night,
Longing for something more.
The memories bring no respite,
My sadness is the only score.

The surprise of brighter days,
Held hostage by my mind.
Depressed in murky haze,
My soul feels so blind.

The joy that will come someday,
Falls through my longing grasp.
I'm close, yet still so far away,
Awaiting the perfect mask.

View attachment Perfect Mask.mp4
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This is a poem that E×ρréššes feelings of sadness, emptiness, and longing. The author's heart feels like a hollow shell where pain cannot reside, but sorrow is present. Memories do not bring comfort to the author, and their sadness is a constant presence. The author longs for brighter days but feels trapped in a depressed state. Although joy may come in the future, it feels out of reach, and the author is waiting for the perfect mask.


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