Hollow Lament

This is the story of the shell of a man. A man, who, as said, has eyes that "are wide and hollow" and a "voice unheard".

Silver slugbug by the Road,
But I wouldn't care less.
There's not a soul in the car, 'sides
Me, the roaches, and the rest.

The radio's playing a sad song,
And I feel like wailing 'long.
But my voice, it's gone,
And has been for years.

Don't know where 'm going,
Or when 'm gonna get there.
I just know I'm going,
And I might never arrive.

The traffic's not so bad,
But I donno what state I'm in.
The sun might be shining,
But I'm not one to check.

The wind's blowing,
Rain's coming in sheets,
Fallen trees line the side of the road,
And panic's at its peaks.

But these eyes are wide and hollow,
This heart untouched,
This voice unheard for the longest while,
These emotions dusty and dull.

The radio's playing a sad song,
And I feel like wailing 'long.
But my voice, it's gone,
And has been for years.

I think I'm in Montana,
But I might be in Nebraska.
Might be Texas, North Dakota,
Or even Canada.

All I know is going,
Not how,
Or when,
Or where.

These eyes are unblinking,
Uncaring,
Indecipherable,
Indescribable.

This heart is hating,
Raging,
Burning...
Broken.

Author's Note

This is about a man who feels hollow.

That's IT. Zilcho else. Okay?

Reviews

[SteveB]

Thank you for sharing this. I truly enjoyed the vivid imagery here. And I liked the structure - starting with location, the radio, moving on, returning to the radio, the lack of specific location and then the final description of a broken man. The "All I know is going" stanza really struck me. The geographic cure is so common for the broken. A good read.