In sheets that cradle dreams and fears entwined,
A silent witness to life's fragile bind.
I move between delusions and a mental fever,
My life runs before me, during me and after me
Expectations creep in my mind, they become solid,
Heavy like my back on the twisted bed.
Spines go through my skin,
I can hear someone screaming.
Amidst stark walls, where echoes of pain reside,
This bed becomes a haven where hazy mind lays,
Silent witness to battles fought, tears un-dried.
I stare, silent, Through the window, the sky weaves a tapestry of gray,
Raindrops dance upon the pane in a melancholic ballet,
Nature's somber symphony on this mist-laden day.
I long to touch the crimson sky,
The sun sets and I lay still,
The pines touch the ablaze firmament,
The branches, the testament
Of nature's beauty.
I am not part of this,
I sit on a concrete block, my feathers don't flock,
I can't chirp and fly,
I am not part of nature's delight.
