It is a lake, no, pray, a balloon. Pinata can burst, and turn into something quite different. Mark these eyes, believe anything can happen. Hope behind such eyes, broken cages, broken hearts. We sit alone, bars freeze, please... help. No help for us. Lucky? Doubt it. Wish for just simple mental trust, unfortunate, cannot be that, that close.
Assistance needed.  
Going to go, going to stay. Were told to stay, but they never came. Still waiting, but lost hope, lost life. Shy, traumatized, just need soft stream of dew. Just want to be home, but cannot be, cannot stand living. Only belief is belief in a lake. Round, depth defying eyes stare at you to be gentle. And then the bubbles turn into broken, shivering, ***** of mortality.