The Vault of Ashes

Words drift from my tongue...
Where threads of sorrow are often strung.

Thoughts drift from my mind...
the ruptured vault where I'm confined.

Tears seep from withered eyes...
the sole product of destructive lies.

The spirit so desperately wants release...
clawing at its shell begging for its peace.

The spirit then turns into rage
spiritual decay now set in this stage.

The shell now corrupted by the tainted soul
bitter anguish devours him whole.

Ravaged and consumed by the horrors within...
the fragile frame shatters...and is one with the wind.