The diffused gleam of jaded dreams
like a siren call upon our desires deep
to sink again in their harrowed streams.
We walk on towards better things
trailing the hummingbird of hope.
Onward, intrepid on rainbow wings.
We live to die another day and begin
with a fated end. Till then we spend
our hours fueling the fire held within.
Why settle for being the fallen fruit
when we can sprout, lush and green?
Again, we will grow; we will take root.