Can't tell if it's my mind, Or a morgue, For all I have left to scavenge, Are dead memories.

They'd steal your heart, And then name you heartless. And leave you alone, Pondering along, Why your chest feels so hollow.

A soft heart was never a curse, It became one, When it ached, Chained to a distant love story

I embedded myself so much, In being yours, That now being myself, Really makes me sick.

Like a euphony she calls me, Across the deserts, Sanded in my core, And like a Medjay She protects, my empty Oasis, My haven, my lover.