Soiled in the rain of your expectations,
Drowning in the dread of your perceived failures,
Preach to me in fear I will not succeed,
I try to speak but find myself gasping for air as I collapse into the void of doubt.
Dark clouds paint skies hanging over a barren landscape of caged emotions in my mind.
Echoes of words spoken ring in my ears, each one stabbing into my brain creating another tear.
Screams unheard resonate across the land,
Ignored by the King of Misconception and Assumption.
A ghost I’ve become staring straight into you,
Oblivious to my presence, continuing on with a sermon contrived in the fiery pits of your mind.
Pretending each word you speak is divine and every action is right and just,
Never taking a moment to sit and question why.
Professing to know the only way to salvation,
Even as a ghost, I am still the haunted.
But even in dark times, beauty can arise.
Flowers continue to grow in weather of uncertainty.
Flowers return to the earth, trusting in a new beginning.
Accepting new phases in the afterlife,
From the seeds, each will bloom again.
Embracing a sense of peace in the fear,
Now with understanding of a life left behind.