The fire destroyed everything I had,
I didn't realize how much I'd grown to depend on it all being there.
The fire destroyed all my pictures,
and through the rubble I found a scrap of paper, so rare.
I treasured all I could find,
a boken piece of glass, a wire from the phone.
I begin to waste away, you can see my bones.
People worry, people call,
don't they realize, I don't want their help at all?
My mind, the only thing left,
bagins to fade from the shock.
All my memories, all my life,
is now under key and lock.
I pray every night,
to see my loved ones one day.
Are they in heaven, are they in hell?
I cannot tell, only pray.
But this isn't only about the fire in my home,
or in my mind.
It's also about the absence of fire, how low I've become,
how I've fallen so behind.
I used to be so loved,
I used to be so bright.
And now I am isolated,
of my own doing, and I am now just a faded light.
So there is no fire in my life, and there was too much in my home.
My life is completely gone,
I am finished, I am done.
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Submission Name: Absent Yet Overwhelming
