Cornered existence in a psychiatrist’s room 










There is a figure in my room  
In a corner, standing tall and free. 
Adorned with birds and blooms,
Illusions of life, on this dead tree. 

Days pass by, but it doesn't grow 
How can it? It's just a show. 
Stories of pain and misery 
Abuse, trials and victory 
Knock its wood and deaf leaf 
It stands silently, untouched, in peace. 

Untill a  dawn ...and every day 
When hope came in as a single ray! 
Sun entered, wrapped in its essence 
whispered, listened, caressed it gentle. 
Life in lifeless, sprouted and reflected,
dancing shadows, union ecstatic!
 
Then slowly joy faded in flowing day 
Sun in motion, tree static, with no say 
Hustle, bustle flowed in as blinding beam 
Corned existence - again silent, or so it seem .

Hope is just a single ray... 
Longing is all thats meant to stay ... 
Until they meet again, next day...

———————

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