Is it true that hope springs eternally while despair sits comfortably?
Glowing anticipation can turn out to be just an illusion?
And that sometimes stepping stones can turn to be tombstones?
This makes my heart sink while my confidence is slowly swallowed by self pity
The single strand of yellow rose claimed survival wearingly,
Sprayed by the shafts of bright yellowed threads of sunshine,
But its delicious scent had faded to the smell of a last meal,
It stood there as if tired of standing in that garden in all eternity
My face seemed too hollow and gray at the heartbreaking sight,
Of the blurring borderline of the hills and the many green trees,
As I searched frantically for the golden horizon to color my soul,
Because my faith was dejecting and lop siding slowly away from me
I felt insufficient and restlessness was lurking vigorously in me,
Cutting my heart with its sharp claw like mysteries,
I felt the weight of the perversity and coldness of this world,
As I tried to save my dying hopes through the dazzling haze,
All my senses were shrinking and merging at the centre of my heart