Sad eyes of a man who walks the roadside
Hint of quietly suffering soul's drought
His shell is now empty but still fit to hide
The depth of sense of sorrow life has brought
Once again he passes by an old church
A beacon of his childhood now distant
By the path he sees a blue iris under a birch
Slowly withering its life out of existence
As he looks down to the flower's fading state
Soul's drought transforms into stream of tears
Nature's silky window to beauty shares his fate
In this ruthless march of months and years
Longing for quiet amidst the inward storm
He decides to walk into nearby forest
But silence can be a ravaging worm
That feeds on wounds at their sorest
Encircled in his doubtful plight
He feels helpless in the moment's distress
After years away from the light
Darkness proved to be a cruel temptress
Without direction in forest as in life
He turned to look around but fell over
As he arose he saw a form of cross
Shrouded in light on top of bell tower
The form was most familiar
Yet it now looked all new
Surfacing from the subliminal
Were words of hope he always knew
On his way back he passes by the same flower
Droplets of sorrow still lying on its leaves
Hope's renewal had brought its hidden power
To make it bloom again as creator's hand weaves
Approaching church with newfound sight
His soul awakens to its hoping
As darkness slowly erodes to the night
The door is open
Hint of quietly suffering soul's drought
His shell is now empty but still fit to hide
The depth of sense of sorrow life has brought
Once again he passes by an old church
A beacon of his childhood now distant
By the path he sees a blue iris under a birch
Slowly withering its life out of existence
As he looks down to the flower's fading state
Soul's drought transforms into stream of tears
Nature's silky window to beauty shares his fate
In this ruthless march of months and years
Longing for quiet amidst the inward storm
He decides to walk into nearby forest
But silence can be a ravaging worm
That feeds on wounds at their sorest
Encircled in his doubtful plight
He feels helpless in the moment's distress
After years away from the light
Darkness proved to be a cruel temptress
Without direction in forest as in life
He turned to look around but fell over
As he arose he saw a form of cross
Shrouded in light on top of bell tower
The form was most familiar
Yet it now looked all new
Surfacing from the subliminal
Were words of hope he always knew
On his way back he passes by the same flower
Droplets of sorrow still lying on its leaves
Hope's renewal had brought its hidden power
To make it bloom again as creator's hand weaves
Approaching church with newfound sight
His soul awakens to its hoping
As darkness slowly erodes to the night
The door is open
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