Blue

Cherry blossoms suddenly start to die in Spring.
Wax wings melted only to be made into candle sticks.
Enlightened briefly before being extinguished.

lyricism unmatched but the flame it ignites comes with a catch.

Scorches your fingertips.
Your inflated ego feeds it till it burns your tongue and spreads across your face.
Now you're left with singed lips.
Pain in explanation, pulls at healing skin. All things now misconstrued.

Anger becomes a familiar emotion.
To quell the pain of internal conversations.
Travel across the nations of your mind.
Only to find out that you've been displaced and you're soul has left your body behind.
The heart severs itself.
Dying cherry blossoms still scream for help.

What a mess. But
-What of less?
What of more or less?
What of the moralless?
What else have I to confess?
What of lessons through moral tests?

Pink petals crack and become blue.
Warmth is discarded and frost begins anew.
Life has departed.
There can be no more little deaths.