Inks of Heart

33

The pains become unbearable;
Incurable, unbeatable.
The clouds grow heavier;
Denser, darker.

Nothing matters to me;
Or is it I who doesn't matter?
Nothing seems lively;
Or is my life becoming unlivable?

Days come and go,
The same old routine follows;
Light and darkness have now too
Become followers of a routine.

It's the same- the aches,
Yet stronger and sharper each time.
It's the same- the hope,
Yet returning and fading each time.

It's worthless to be so nice,
When I'm the one who's breaking;
Like a flower being torn,
Giving fragrance without stopping.

~☆~✧~✧~☆~
The flower is dying each day yet it's unnoticed all the while...
Anna