The Hunger

I lay in the stillness, the room a cage, Surrounded by things, but trapped in my rage. My hands have bought, my heart has given, Yet in the silence, I feel no living. A hunger grows, gnawing and cold, A craving for love, for something untold. These walls, these things, they cannot soothe, For in my chest, I feel nothing move. Life, a prison, binds me tight, Each breath a chain, each thought a fight. The light flickers, yet dims within, A dance with death, where love can’t begin. A woman, a dream, a chance to be whole, She stands at the edge of my aching soul. Could she heal this wound, could she make me fly, Or am I doomed to stare at the sky? Love’s light, so distant, so far away, I reach for it, yet it slips each day. In every moment, in every sigh, I feel the weight of dreams that die. And still I hunger, still I ache, For a love that could heal, a love that could wake. But the death of time pulls me apart, A slow unraveling of a broken heart.