When hopes come early but arrive late.

I'm gliding,
and soon I'm sliding..
And catch myself in air"
And Yet!
I'm still falling....
But why are the floors 
Looking lucky ....
scaring me!...
With images of the ground calling.
Maybe us meeting
Is what's making it angry.
For sure it's starring...
And it must see me smiling...

Now it's Mimicking Visuals 
of the wallest floors,
Covering holes"
And slamming pretend doors.
 not one view is beautiful.
And not one feeling can adore.
No light will ever open this doors 
The floor and it's holes,
Have never met a holy soul.

Now it begins manufacturing frightened" 
Soon develops pain, 
giving it length to our devouring shame...
Making worshiping the pride of our drain" 
and consistency of our rain.
Dripping through the cracks" 
and cutting distance.
Hoping it forgets that I'm moving in.
Knees can't bend,
words can't sound for search.
So the consious shouts..!
For help...
and the sense of reality,
keeps you calm.
Without choice or a way out
It secures you're end..  
But when yells sound the same.
Is Live and soul soundings a duet.
This time them both
hit the key.
if you look my way..!
I hope you hopes ..
keep me in air
And then think to know
something wrong.
And you began to care.
And realize that this was real life'.
And maybe me striking takes my life.