My Precious Little Hollow

In these redundent days,
Time slowly passes by
The year has ended slowly,
While perceptions say otherwise.

I cherish happy memories,
Fruitless as it may seem
Work has given pleasure,
Unlocking the stairway to dreams.

Amidst all the smiles,
Comes the usual pain
This time and every other,
Ending in tears or in shame.

Under this drugged moon,
My hollow raises its head
For sometime, it has been quiet,
Now it needs to be fed.

My precious little hollow,
Silly as it may seem,
Is said to give me vitality,
The strength of live new dreams

My necrotic little hollow,
Wallowing deep inside,
Consistantly keeping warm,
Through so many faceless hellos and goodbyes.

My hollow will be sated,
As is always the plan
The sun has nearly reached me,
Almost, but not quite there.

The hollowness of hollows,
A miracle to behold
Like clockwork, it acts,
No great strength can break its hold.

My pedastel is empty,
For I have cleared away the dust
Finished all the pep-talks
Of never disseminating trust.

For this world is quite too big,
And wherever I may roam
Though I quietly perish,
I shall become Hollow, once more.