I am the invisible real made flesh.
A tangent soul cast adrift amidst an ocean of embellishment.
Ignored by those that see with eyes of lies, those informed by words written by tellers of fortune.
The strong of spirit would persevere, I am not that, I vanish. Hibernating in a litter of comfort.
A truth that cannot find me, cannot harm me.
The winter falls, I walk through the cold, leaving my depressions in the snow. January melts, I am reborn in Springs virgin eye. Now able to do without a palpable past, without the agony of meagre victories usurped by major failings.
Nature spreads it's glory in warmth alive with pain, If I see past the broken mirror of others I will soon blossom again.
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