False Hope

These winter winds mercilessly blow my
happiness away,
to a dark place
never to be found again.

In this pit
I hear muffled voices
cheery and light,
unknowing of what lies beneath them,
and how cold this world really is.

My frigid hands, frail and white,
reach for something;
but what I am reaching for is intangible.
It is what others waste and destroy; it is a helpless feather, moving with the current and fluttering ahead.
It is life

They talk about their lust for others
and pine for imaginary safety and false hope.
I feel footsteps above me
hear the thud of a man's boots
and the cry of his truancy.

It must be hard to remove the blinders,
 or look away from life's light;
but once you do,
I am certain
that you will see me.
Decaying and decomposing,
transforming into a beautiful wild creature
tamed by death.