I have much to do, but the will sure isn't playing along
I thought if you could remind me of what life is
For it feels quite like a colourless sky, sans your voice
The voice in my head that fed me will has been yours
The mind has become mangled in its absolute absence
It seems to wake up ever so often in your thoughts
Then rolls back to playing possum noting your absence
This could be a streak of my downward spiralling
That forms a vortex and drags my soul in its currents
They invite me to give up and flow like dead drift wood
That will churn and decay to set me afloat at sea
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