This is not a love song - a poem or not

just a piece of the puzzle

If I lay still will time fall away? Would endless frozen moment bring solace to the tired heart or engrave the agony of impending loss. Life instructs not to want, dreams becoming smaller and smaller with each strangled possibility, until nothing is left then the most rechid need for survival now dwindling like the last note of song.

Am but husk and ashes, an abomination still animated in a freak instant of insanity. "Next year will be my year". words spoken with such optimism until years like pealed skin reached the very bone and the mere thought of hope became poisoned thorn ... It is a taunt your expectation of friendly tidings and your god, who had forsaken me at conception, enjoys the the creativity of an endless trail of bitter pills he left on my path...

And yet beware despite a world that hates my existence I live my life as I preach it. As I step from my casket I leave the land of make-believe that was cocoon of stillborn butterflies, dragging a heart behind me that has become so heavy I hardly care to move... If blood is life and I cut cord, what creation springs from fading view?

Reviews

[Chris]

Good puzzles are experienced though seldom easily solved...

and I liked "rechid" - good word.