Walking Into Window Panes

In a jewel box, not
Your lovely pristine image kept,
In carve gold frames,
Unfit to hold,
Thy auburn crown
As only smooth rivers may flow,
Mischief tinge eyes
Even stars falter aside
Of chimes of passion of surprise,
Hearts may melt if made of ice
Once fix upon by thy humble gaze
And me i may only wish upon the skies,
And hope that heaven pities me
Wrench my lonely soul away,
From where even angels pale to stay.
For beggars like me,
Unmatched, uncouth, un-divine..
Have no place beside those nimble feet
that have thread lightly upon numberless hearts....

Life is a burden, it is an unwanted gift.

It chooses to awaken you, without giving you a reason.

Like a marionette, you obey the master puppeteers.

You have to live because life demands it of you.

Life is a burden, like a thousand thoughts unwritten.

It hangs upon your shoulders and demands full attention.

A bell that rings of constant annoyance.

To remind you that you cannot lose it...

Without losing yourself.

The heaviness of the heart.

The pinpricks of conscience.

The plastic masquerades.

The bundle of rules.

The infinite wait.

Strength seeps from ridges of the crack heart.

Where weariness leak through the gaps.

Faith dash to pieces upon sanity.

Innocence sunk to the deepest death.

Believe blown away by doubt.

Life is a burden, born to be bore by an unwilling soul...