I Rest With Flowers Decayed

I do not exist
faithful in doubt and shattered in health
half blind I write to you with faith and teachings to preach
with flowers to present to you

shadow am I, with a question with no set reply as I pass by
flowers of gold within diamonds I dig
while I walk delicately on this elegant ground
more like the absence of gratitude I share this dance alone

one day the water is going to wash it away
with nothing clever left to say
the flowers of gold remain decayed

writing on the water's edge
breaking the code not known at all
with faith I dream in the form of success
with proper season I shed my shell
while the paper flew away before we left the bay
while the flowers remain steadily decayed

so with the need to regain my strength
I pray yet in our minds we keep our confessions long
yet when we pray we keep them short
a moment of thought, a fire to extinguish
the truth is hard to bare and not what you expected it to be

for the shadow am I
is what represents the image of the grace with flowers in hand
like a suspicion never confirmed, yet never denied
a conflict of interest, words to defy

one day the water will wash the flowers away
and the goldmine will fade into distance
and the memories I hold are images of a newspaper headlines
where the flowers are casted upon my throne
with water are washed away
nothing left clever to say
one day
nothing left to say

"I " now "rest with" the "flowers" and in time become "decayed"