The white vibrant tear of the may bell
Filling with despair as it fell
The glisten of hope dying
Unable to reach the bonfire
Truly making the situation dire
As the tear went flying

As beautiful as stone
Awkward and stuttered
Feeble in attempts yet deep
Preaching to me in fragile tone

Forming a dependency on me
Controlling and possessive
Cutting off my breath
Gripped by fear you cannot see

Hate me love me.
End we..

Plastic smile for plastic people
A smile thats bright
But when theres no more light
Broken and brittle

Revealing less then human
Just plastic
Flexible and moldable as elastic
Until broken and brittle.

Hope, what could it be exactly?
Something that makes us go on

The thing that makes us get up
When we fall down in dispare

Truly it gives us a lot
It dwells into our passions

Making a fire burn deep in our heart
Offering relief not only to the smart

I lure in the kindled spirits
hoping thou shall be uplifting
but I know better to fear it
will thou take a chance?

when thy destroys the kindled
making you no more then a husk
wishing we never mingled
thy creates the withered?

the broken husk...
crippled by thy honey covered word
leaving a sour musk

thy create the withered
But I am also the withered...