Comatose

The shrivelled skin
Of a hand
Cold, unfeeling
In search for warmth, a fire perhaps, another hand clasping it perhaps

Dried up
A sponge
Thirsting for a drop

A mind famished
A hunter, (a scavenger if the need be)
The morsels, they, do not suffice

A kite
Wanting to soar, unbridled, unfettered..

Where, oh where, pray tell me
  Does the wind blow
The water flow
  The prey dwell
Or the wood burn nowadays?

For it has not
  Rustled the leaves on my path
Or seeped into my pores
  Satiated my hunger
Or softened my palms

For long..

Current Music - Matchbox Twenty - If You're Gone
(Funny name for a group, but good vocals, I would recommend Bed of Lies by MB20 too)