I stare into the ocean, my life reflected back, a mirror that reveals the path more clearly.
I carry my thread of existence, woven solely in the flame that holds my warmth.
I whisper to the waves— bring me life, bring me a thread of it.

A rose she stands, so soft, so bright,
Knowing well the coming night —
The winds will tear, the storm will rise,
And close forever her gentle eyes.

Yet still she blooms without regret,
Her petals kissed by sun still wet —
She lives for love, she sways with grace,
And meets her end with a quiet face.

Not fearing loss, nor fighting fate,
She fills her hours, though brief, though late —
With peace, with hope, with colors spun,
And love — until her days are done.

April unveils proof,
within the course of fate,
during the days of downpour & rain,
frightening showers forge new ways,
for vibrant May flowers
to bloom in place.

The worst part was thinking I saw you,
A you with depth,
A depth that matched mine,
But you just turned out to be
like everyone else.

she has my voice,
only sweeter;
she has my notions,
only purer;
she has my pride,
only gentler;

she knows i’m hurt,
only better.

she means well;
is it… only a spell?
she breathes a song;
only, i cannot tell —
if she yearns for me,
or only mourns for me.

to me, it don't seem;
but i know —
she's only a dream.

I used to be able to hold the tides.
They bent to my will,
With absolute ease.
Now, they pull me under.
Deep down, I always knew -
Water would betray me.