Empty

Too much worry for reality
Shaking up in a world of fury
That draws from within
Your inner strength
Over months of turmoil
And minutes of anger

Yet second hands never falter
As you draw the next breath
And personalities are sought
In a fiery exhalation

Explanations invalid
But not needed
To express the cessation
Of over-zealous commands
And imperative sentences

Lips are now volatile
As they are silent
Swollen and sore
But holding a fork-tongued sentence
That could stab a sword

Too much worry now plagues the stomach
Into anger and rumbling
For no longer can it hone
To obvious plights

Nervousness and calousness
Now rip through every vein
That networks deep into the heart

Left a shaking mess
And an exhausted rag
You pack your life
Into a smiling bag