Growing Black Crystals

I wonder if the life you lead,
Does bear for you a fruitful seed.
Shining like a glass bead,
But the lead of your framework limits your need.

Never seeing any better than fear.
Hoping for more than what is seen.
Ever bigger grows that dam of tears,
Staying forever what you have always been.

Can the way out be found in your eyes,
Letting you see the possibilities endless.
Should I keep these ties?
Or am I entertaining the frivolous.

Death makes its way near,
Times meaning not in my minds eye.
Rocking there and here,
Hugging my knees and thighs.

The growing stone sucks my warmth,
While it continues to rise.
Reflecting a version of me,
That I have come to dispise.

Beautiful poetry to look upon,
But sharp anguish to hold.
A treasure to be owned,
But never able to be sold.