the fragile mold becomes itself
with blooms come fall or autumn
i see the spread before myself
all hope has been lost and forgotten
when evenings light begins to shine
the glow becomes my bastion
vessels that show my face
lose vision by the masses
as time creeps on i hear the voice
of all the souls beneath my breath
surely this one can stay with caution
but heeding warnings is rarely done
the rebel becomes a savior being
too fragile in its mystery
the warm folds envelop the mist
as the slap descends upon my face
the tender caress is received