A pulse exists but tells a lie,
Mimic'd life through a faded eye.
You perceive a body, mind and soul,
I am the shell, not nearly whole.
Theres a wall between your kind and mine,
A wall like steel, tempered, refined.
And in that wall exists a door, and like the raven you call for. Knocking, knocking on this door.
But the door is locked and the key is lost,
So the echo'd sounds come with sunk cost.
Eventually the knocks subside,
People get tired of courting a hide.
They wise up and move right on,
Assuming I just want them gone.
But the fact remains, the key is lost,
Not hidden, stolen, simply lost.
I'd help in search but It's out of reach,
And be angry if thats how you will reside, the door is locked, and theres not keyhole on the inside.