Life is one unfolding flower,
It grows larger with each passing hour.
Until you are choking from its grasp and wish it will finish,
It finally does, and all hope does vanish.
The flower falls, your life with it,
There's nothing left, nothing to give it.
Now you regret the pace your life took up,
You would give anything to step out of that rut.
But alas, the flower is dead, lying on the floor,
You have killed it, and there is nothing more.
So along with the flower, you melt to the ground,
Gasping, choking, but emitting no sound.
The flower is your life, your life the flower,
You never thought it could hold such power.
And now as each second fades slowly away,
You would give anything to see the day
That you could live, breath and walk again.
But alas, your life is as dead as the flower beside your hand