Four walls seal the gift of light,
No windows, no fresh air, nothing but a dark site.
If not the two of you, death would be fated;
You and it are each others most hated.

It fastens to you for your blood and fatality,
You cling to it for breath and vitality.
Roots and thorns merge with your veins;
Both of you struggling with the losses and gains.

Sitting there letting it consume you,
It blossoms its petals, providing its dew.
Breathes are exchanged while lives are bound,
Only detachment will allow death to be found.

Neither you or it can survive without one another;
Hope seemed to be gone, never to forgive each other.
So alone you both lay, without a purpose or dream,
Connected with life torture, dependence, and being.