What I Want Is A Friend Poem by Enchanting Owl

Closing my eyes while laying here in bed,
Like preparing my grave because I'm lifeless as a dead.
Don't know why this is happening or what it is.
The gray line is showing and sleeping into the abyss.

What should I do to overcome this mess?
Reaching my hand to the endless sky, aiming to caress.
Lifeline is silent; silence is deafening.
Trying is nil, and I am tired of this err reckoning.

The gates of the sky open with horses,
Playing its trumpet beautifully, the dove enforces.
The rays of comfort cocoon me and shine brightly.
Bliss is now a reachable dream; my face brightens sprightly.

This feeling is brand new and gold pristine.
This will help me become a new person, like a cystine.
Change is financing; stagnancy is divestment.
At the end, you are there waiting—this will be permanent.