Hope To Die

 
Cries, heard of myself  
when I was young, bear the  
likeness of a blossom  
submerged in wax  
 
I reach far and wide  to build  
 a pattern of lonely confusion  
 that weaves it's way with    
determination  
seeking answers to why  
promises made were never kept.  
 
Promises of a full breath  
a smile,  that brings sunshine  
to the mouth of those who are  
tormented by life who lay undead  
in a field of withered daisys  
twice dead within a cracked jar,  
   
Linger here, at the naked river where voices of insanity swirl  
in a whirlpool of slippage  
where time repeats itself  
where hope, a  worn cog too  
heavy to repair drags me  
to comfort within a lost  
mind filled with  colors  
of hope
that streak across a bleak
horizon  
Colors, that shriek  
of death  
of a hope  
of a hope to die