I am alive, yet I feel Death.
Sweet chaos runs down my cheeks,
With a crown of frosted thorns I sit,
Waiting for redemption.
A brisk March breeze reminds me
That I am apart of this world.
Staring ever so frequently at the sky; Impatient,
For retribution has a way of being subtle.
Crystalline tears shatter into dreams,
Cascading upon the pavement like a mirror.
Truth reflects the light of my demise,
The only fate I shall see is that of my own shadow.
