Picking up pieces 
like verses from broken songs
withering daisies 
losing hope, knowing they will be gone

Dying freshness
like on death bed, of a pale old monk 
Withering sunflowers
losing sunshine, knowing they will be gone

A cracked glassware
waiting to be broken and torn,
I hung by a thin thread tied to a sharp edge
losing faith, knowing i will be gone.

Like there is eternal silence
before a storm
Everything precious in my life was dying
their silent pain preceding the death of my dawn 

the day had come, 
it was a dark night as and when i jumped  to death
giving up on life, not wishing to live anymore
it took me a nano second to make my life end

what happened soon after
was nothing but pitch black
no pain no sensation, 
deadly blankness at me just simply stared

While the world thought
i had killed them by deserting them
and my baby, my Iris,
was also almost already dead;
as the world thought i was selfish
living for myself, 
i was actually fighting a battle 
of my own life and death

The jump didn't hurt me
surprised i was as much as you are
forget about killing me,
the jump offered me another chance

like rising sun, and the twilight before,
my eyes opened as my body laid on the road
i got up, and checked my hands, legs and nose
everything was in a perfect piece, telling me i would still go on.

never ever had i thought before
that i would be where i was that night
scared of my own self for repeating the same mistake, 
i ran again from myself trying to save my soul, my mind and my head.

My baby, she was away and lonely on her own quest,
i had nowhere else to go, but until she came back
i ran and ran and ran again,
from the world, from myself, and from a repeted potential self inflicted death

like zombied frankestien, i was a body, nothing rest
awaiting my baby to return for she had the heart that would fit  perfectly in my chest
only then would i be really myself again, i knew
so i ran back in circles waiting for her plane to land. 

today as i write this, 
you know alive is my hand
nature has this stern rule of life, 
where the dead is not allowed to come back

and yet i am here, having fought all odds,
trying to reclaim my place, a palace of cardboard  box
have i defied nature? or has nature broken its own law?
i know your love has protected me goddess iris,  i was and i am, your lover reborn.