Destitution, feeling I have on looking around.

Walking down this endless road to death,
I feel bereft and barren,
Simplicity fades into tyhe margines of visibility,
And a life of struggle winds ahead.

The mother and the father only remain awhile,
Providing their fingers for support.
Then slowly disappear into the darkness of bereavement.

But fleeting as it is time slips past,
Leaving pebbles for the poor and gold for the rich.
Little fish die swimming upstream,
I survive pain and agony dismembering my dry soul.

Patterns of intricate desires weave through my heart,
Along with the conscious knowledge of failure.
Failure to succeed,
and to provide.

Music trickling into my senses like mirages in a dessert of sand,
Like colour in a dark and dreary dream,
Music becoming the only solace,
Enriching me for times to come and being the remembrances of the past.

Open windows all along the way,
And the sheltered look on with contempt,
At a sight of shame and deprivity.
Raised fingers condemn me to misery,
Their ill will leaves me forlorn,
Eating away my love.

Woisdom of sages cannot deliver me from the hatred sown deep within.
I am milked of all my joy,
I drink from pools of gall which promise to toughen and to strenthen.

I inspire compassion within those who can feel empathy,
Those whose pretentiously pity me.
I defy their compassionate glance,
Their selfish desire to help.
I am strong willed.
I will bleed my feet ti walk,
I will tear my lungs to breath.

I will die in roadside slumber,
In the arms of the gentle breeze,
The breeze that rocks me up to the stars and heaven,
From where I drizzle down to mother earth,
Down to where I belong.