by Bianca Haeck (Kissa)
It trickles down your skin in a coat so feather-light,
It’s all you can do to win in this seemingly lost fight,
You let is soak in, you’ve given up resistance,
As you let the covers slide to make up the distance.
A mosaic builds before your eager eyes,
Of the life, of the path that you deem wise,
You can see it now, you can touch your prize,
But something so cruel in waiting lies,
And quick to destroy it is the poison in your skin,
As it fades the image and wears your hope thin.
You scuffle for power, but must give in,
For you’ve lost, for you’ve lost, you cannot win.
You’ll sit in a daze with eyes half open now,
As this thing to fade you’ll allow,
It is natural, it is common, so why should you change,
To match this thing you find so deeply strange,
As it holds you sway and pulls you down,
Only to let you in your own world drown.
You whisper in the dark as your unheard dreams fly,
To their destination in the cage of another to die,
Or perhaps this once it will be no cage at all,
But we will only know once we let ourselves fall.