If his mind was always in a daydream, 
In his eyes - the awakening of a new fear, 
And his feet - with no direction to turn. 

How do his eyes see anything - 
But his darkening soul within? 
How do his hands reach out, 
With nothing to grasp? 

It's a lonely road, 
For a soul without purpose. 
And it's about to crumble, 
Under weightless pressure.

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