April 9, 2011

No hope left

When darkness falls, deep and swift,

Fear creeps in, an icy drift.

A lonely tree stands tall,

Its leaves have withered, it is fall.

The tree looks barren, naked and battered,

Its head held high, its soul shattered.

The heart is mighty, the being frail,

A silent cry, a piercing wail.

The tree, it is bidding its days,

For a time when it won’t have to stay.

Watching seasons from winter to spring,

And wonder what tomorrow would bring.

As it stands dark and bereft,

It knows for sure there’s

no hope left.

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