This is.
A black cloud drapes the moon
Prohibiting life from seeing clearly
moving as time slips through an hour
Shedding light upon what could not be seen
This is my mind
A cracked wall surrounding a dying garden
slowly rebuilt after it has fallen
Sheltering its fragile inhabitants
But they will not grow a new
In vain the wall is built higher
This is my heart
A broken clock
Hands that mark the moment it stopped
Hangs loosely on the wall
Threatening to fall
This is my soul
A porcelain doll discarded by time
Sitting dusty forgotten on a shelf
Never to be loved as once before
Broken but strangely beautiful
This is my body.
A tightrope walker beautiful in form
Slight in frame
Balancing gymnastics above a never ceasing carousel
This is my life
A child born with wings never to be used
Deprived of the purpose
Reaches for the sun
But fears Icarus's failures
This is me
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