Whispers To The Oblivion ...

Does every spring end in a fall, Where ruthless wind speaks it all, Of wilted flowers and homeless leaves; Graveyard of splendor in buried heaps... Like tales of broken love, Not written, but etched on your inner wall Does every spring end in a fall?

She could hear them, the daily stifles of her inner voices, She survived, succumbed to their choices Those numbing sensations in a myriad of noises. She could feel them, The dark demons of the shadow she cast behind, tearing apart her heart and soul, her newly enlightened mind. In them there was, a strength greater than she could ever find A strength that nurtured every minuscule, in ways undefined. She was a warrior, a rebel A devious beauty concealed in a chivalrous veil. The gleam in her eyes spoke of a latent illicit zeal. For all she believed- She can. She will.

I'll hold my breath and wait for spring, Hoping only its early advancing. I'll wait and let winters dissolve with bitter pain Disappear into the oblivion, Like angels condemned from heaven. A caged bird, I, will await you limitless One more, Just one more time To see you and submerge in unending happiness...