Lost souls are living down there. 

Shall I try to help them?

 Or maybe should I just give them my silence, has always? 

Useless I fear this is for no hope is on their hearts and no hope is in their minds.

Or maybe just emptiness.

Does emptiness exists after all?

The pure state of not caring, impossible it sounds.

And impossible it is for there's always something occupying space inside us.

So what are those souls and what they have? 

Not even a sparkle, not even a shine? Fake fire maybe.

I fear not.

I fear that after all, lost souls are just seeds:

Need to be planted, need to be treated the way they should and, in the end, they will bloom.

'Cuz after all, that's all we are: seeds that one day will be something.