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