Why?.
A question so repetitive,
It stifles my mind.

As the more I think,
The less I hide.

The more I speak,
The less I lie.

The more I feel,
The less I disguise.

For the more I live,

The less I am alive.

My truest darling,
I plucked a flower for you.
Vibrant,
And fragile,
Just like us two.

You were soft,
And supple,
Like these pretty petals.
I hold it closely,
Away from nettles.

I will water it daily,
On your behalf.
No matter if this breath,
Shall be my last.

And although you're beneath
The soil and sands,

This flower,
My angel,
Shall never leave my hand.

How joyous I would be,
If time would slow.
Take a breather,
Let us flow.

From hours to minutes,
They turn to seconds.
Living in limits,
Having no presence.

I deeply sigh,
For time is too rapid.
Too impatient to wait,
Too ravenous to stop it.

As now the clock,
Reaches to nine.
And here I lay,
Wishing,
Of a world without time.

Growth.
A beautiful thing,
For the mind and soul.

From young to old,
To secrets untold.

In youth I thrived
Through actions of bold.

As I have lived
Through thick and thin.

And let my story unfold.

But all is well,
For my soul is home.
In the arms of death,

I am free to roam.

I am lost,
Utterly lost.
A ghost,
In my own body.
A memory,
In my mind.
A restless soul,
Breaking inside.
My joy proving to be a lie.

Yet here I am.
Breathing,
Barely feeling,
Yet still alive.

I have been granted
The gift, of you.
A sweet, joyous angel,
With a heart made for two.

Your precious soul,
So radiant of light.
Beaming greatly,
From day till night.

My heart is full,
When yours is too.
For a blessing like you,

I refuse to lose.

Every day and night

I fight for my life.

So every morning,

I can be proud

That I succeeded at something.

I look at my wall,
It speaks no colour.
Bare,
Empty,
Since the season of summer.

Your soul left,
And I,
Left too.
But an idea
Came to me,
One lazy afternoon.

I looked at my supplies,
That were almost decaying.
I opened them gently,
And soon began painting.

Your favourite colours cascading
Yellow, green and blue.
The wall began drying,
As my tears did too.

For this mural,
Is sacred,
And I,
Am now feeling.
As another sun rises,
My heart welcomes healing.

Oh little one,
Your heart died so young.
Life can be a pain,
And you were stung.
You sought happiness,
In the arms of your own.
As joy did not exist
In the heart of your home.
Your carers,
Were made of stone.
Flashes of anger
Turned you cold.
But through this,
You continued to grow.
Be proud,
Little angel,
You have won this alone.

I am a floating flower,
Among the tallest tree.
My petals,
They fall once plucked from me.
My pollen
Decreases once ****** by bees.
My roots
Decay once ripped from leaves.
I am fragile,
Born from the smallest of seed.
Grown and sewn,
To the purest beauty.

But wanderer and ponderer,
Please let me be.