Dead feelings - Poetic anthology

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Life is lived in my song,
and death is breathed.

We see the flowers fallen on the ground,
we hold them with our hand,
we cried a while,
and then we dry the tears.

Then we ask...

What is the use of crying?
if you're not crying,
What is the use of loving?
if you are not loved,
What is the use of talking?
if you are not heard.

The pits of feelings,
they evoke simplicity in the gray,
omitting the color,
leaving monotony everywhere,
as an insult to the whole world.