Empty is the coldness of circumstance on a summer night.
Empty is the silent tears which are never going to be talked about, never going to brushed away by gentle hands.
Empty is what a life without purpose feels like.
Empty is a soul devoid of compassion and gratitude.
Empty is the forgetfulness of all the goodness in the world as a dense blanket of angst clouds all judgement.
Empty is rejection by the very person who told you; you meant everything for them, without a second thought.
Empty is the by-product of war, the brother of moral decay and the progeny of injustice.
Empty is what it feels when you are told that your life has no meaning; even though no one is ever a burden on this planet.
Empty sprouts, blossoms & thrives in an environment of greed, ignorance, and neglect of character.
Empty is what is brought into our lives by external factors, but it’s only granted permission to enter by internal ones.
Empty is a path, if encountered, one must walk alone.
They say that empty is often just a phase of life. But I hope dearly, that you my friend, never have to live with empty; for it is always found to be poor company.
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