Dying petals adorn the sidewalk
They're varying pigments document life's varying stages of leaving,
Thwarts drafts of wind, their nature
to revel in my gaze
Not in act of personification,
They are not the object of attraction
No,
But a messenger to the careful stepper,
“Look up.”

Mankind is a mosaic
of everything they have done in their existence;
insignificant if the pieces cease
to fit against each other,
all intertwined into one melancholic,
woe-filled work of art.

I gaze as the Sun retreats to its hollow cavern of darkness,
The stars a faint reminder of the vast emptiness that lies beyond.

A dove flew across my view,
And a daffodil gently landed on the windowpane.

Yet, it wasn't long before I realized that the Sun had set before it even rose.

Like a candle,
The reflection of our shattered, but beating heart continues to grow Dimmer
As the passage of time goes on;
Kindled by our growing sorrow and the want to be ignited yet again for one final time,
The hours fleeting by as flowers wilt
And the ever-lasting rain ceases.

A shard of vintage hope
Stained with no scope
Painted for an antique emotion
Which was drowning in a deep ocean
Woefully against all of my notion

On the edge of a chasmic cliff
A forlorn shade of my soul, stands stiff--
She stares down in the fathomless abyss
Not fearing the abysmal crisis
In which, she will plunge in a gorge of vices

Flames dance and flicker towards her heart
And, breaking the iron-wrought cage apart
Alas! To only find a ghastly grim cavern
Engirdled between lungs and ribs,
Her once-alive heart--was torn to shreds
All whilst, a monster gently caressed
Towards the harrowing path of an eternal rest

Soaked from the rain.
                                         Surrounded by figures.
                      Invisible to all.
                                                I heard it:
'You want to be loved.'
             The gray clouds enveloped the sky.
                                    I shook my head.
       Everything was crumbling.
                                                             Emptiness.
                                            Worthlessness.
                             Complaining.
                      Hatred.
              Distain.
       Apathy.
                                          I was seen,
                       But it wasn't me.
                                                                       Stop looking.

                                  The grass withered at my feet,
Turned to mud behind each worthless step.
                              My suit worn down with grime.
          Stained with dirt and blood.
                                  It looked nice,
                                             The stains were covered.

                    The voice:
     'Not loved for how you are.'
                       'But loved for who you are.'
                                     'Despite who you are.'
              'You want to belong in your existence.'
                              'You want you,'
               'The real you,'
'To be loved.'
            'Not the manufactured you,'
                                  'Not how you look,'
                                                 'Or how you act,'
                                                                   'You.'

                I laughed at it's words.
Feeling the urge to ***** and cry at the same time.
                                      But only smiling.

                                               Then I said no...
                                ...I said no...