Please

I live in the acquiescence of transition

The pastels are blotted with my tears

The tears make the day effuse

My juxtaposition is obtuse

I can feel my essence

Bleeding away

I'm already at no more
I'm in the epilogue of conclusion

The contacts bloat my eyes with tears

I can't divine direction

I can't see

I can't even hope

Is this macular degeneration
Is this life without zest

Or is this wonder lust

Maybe I'm residue

Maybe my quest is for a new day

Maybe I'm the melody of the sunset