Pity: the fuel of self esteem;
a false sympathy,
never to help the other in need.
Instead a seed planted
hand crafted
placed within host
to disassemble ones self love
and feed for self, thereof.

It is indulgent.
Narcissistic, but worth it.
For the once dull glimmers,
the fire dies down,
smoke cloud; heat simmers.
Colours more varied.
Clicked in, pieces; in sync.
Cured of sickness,
no longer at the brink.

Can't you see it!
The sparrows, they sing!
On the fleeting branches of a dying spring.

The church bells, they ring!
Reverberating a solemn deference
our forgotten reference
my remembered past.


Don't look at me like that.
I ain't crazy.
I'm okay taking to feel this way.
I'm okay!
It don't bother me none.

You are free?
  
I am Free.