Wilted flower, you contain no soil

To enrich the planes of your doubting soul.

Deep in the mire of your entity

Lays a budding life.

Dear girl, I am sorry to say

That you no longer have proof for your actions.

Lying in wait for these bonds to surface.

The heels are clicking and the murmuring continues,

For the transposed thoughts to succeed.

Barefoot, she carefully steps across the thorns

That prickles the mind and numbs the heart.

Her wishes wash away like cold, unfeeling cares.

Pulling the lever…

she purifies with gushing dew drops.

Chafed from the beating rain.

Torn apart for no good.

These trodden lands are too filthy to be made clean.

Is that what you see?

A reflection of despair?

Turn your eyes to the sky and take these tainted pearls

To a safe nesting ground.

Where the feeble mind can rest

And the thoughts may be cherished.

The dreams filter in slowly and

The imagination flies.

I grant you better days,

Dear girl, don’t harden your heart.

For richness is in the eyes of the beholder

But beauty lies within.

See the reflection

And catch thy hopes.

by elisajoy