Breathe in the silence,
A silence so fitting.
Would you cry if I gave you a pearl?
One inscribed with poetry and prose

Is it a futile effort?
To scribe my words of mind,
Lauds of my misery,
Tragic paeans of my discomfort

The tree of life is shedding its leaves,
Their colors confusing my time keep,
And I am struck by a curious query;
Will I be granted awareness,
When my time has ceased its flow?

The myriad of pigments dance with my psyche,
And during that dance,
I am struck blind.
Though blind, I can clearly see,
A blatant aesthetic symmetry
In the carvings on my soul.

I exhale into the silence,
No sequel waits its fall,
Rings and glowing chains are bestowed upon me,
Broken wings carry me onward,
Yet still I am blind.

Would you cry if I wrote you a poem?
One about pearls and lies
That cruel illusion, life,
Was just but a beautiful lie