Could all be simple
Easing my way into the darkness
Letting loose my grip
No longer clinging to the last straw
Removing all the material
Replacing it with light

Or dark...
Maybe it is darkness

But how I wish it were light
That the stories reign true
So simple

Letting go of me
Letting go of the idea of me

Decaying softly thru the seasons
I'd get flowers more often
Flowers that tears help grow