An empty vessel, it is what many things become over time.  They are emptied of their contents every time they leave their mark somewhere, or give a little piece of themselves to something.  Slowly drained of the thing that makes them what they are.

Surely every vessel is refillable, but where to refill it isn’t always clear.

It is this way with so many things.  From the simplicity of emptying a bottle of water and refilling it at the tap or the well, to the complexity of draining the love out of someone and their need to feel love again to refill the emptiness in their soul.

Sometimes that soul has just been drained dry too many times, and that person struggles to believe that finding love again is really worth it.

No more will I succumb to the pain,

It’s nothing more than a fading stain.

A mark on a past I would gladly forget,

So over it, I will no longer fret.

No more will I live in the grasp of misery.

The reason for it is just a fleeting memory.

A thought from a time that never really mattered.

So lost are its pieces long gone and scattered.

No more will I give in to the temptation to feel.

This heart is not one that any can steal.

A secured relic, carefully stowed away.

So closed are its vessels, a way in there’s no way.

No more will I allow my heart to restore.

Of the feeling of love, I have no more.

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