The Essence Of Our Minds

Dear diary

I'd like to presume

A writing on the wall,

So fragrant is the flower

Hanging on the wall

And also lingering

In time,

My heart spills blood

And blood alone

I write with a heavy heart,

Ask no questions why

But I'm not limited to die

For to die alone

Is tragic,

So shall you know

Dear diary

The wrecking of the mind,

How hollow it is with sorrow

Covered in leaves

From dirty trees

I beg your pardon.