Mellifluous Murmurs

Iris

I lie down on my area of comfort

I shelter my thoughts and let the tunes stream in

I allow the rendition fill the emptiness of my life

and yet I laminate my death certificate all at the same time. 

I crashed onto this world; a burden 

but whoever witnessed my tragic pain

would scream

"Iris."

"So worthless. I have nothing to do here in this world."

A whisper comes alive from a corner, "iris."

When my expectations don't reach high enough 

and a sigh would escape my lips

I'd hear a voice so low yet so throaty, "iris."

 You stand in a field of the deadly but you're the only one standing.

So delicate, innocent, pure...

"Iris."

You, are my iris. 

I'd repeat the same words to him today

 when he tells me that he has become the ugly flower.

"I'm old, my bones are breaking apart." 

"I'm not as before, young one." 

"I can't jump around anymore for all I know." 

When the tears spill out of his tear ducts in moments of unworthy, 

he'd cry.

 Cry so loud. 

His now fragile body rests in my arms and this time it was my time to whisper, iris.