Withered life brought low,
with browning stalks and stems.
Twilight of a summer’s day,
in the coming of the Fall.

Swirling clouds of darkest grey,
complimented with the oval drop.
Burst banks and flooded plains,
a river swamping all that lies before.

A naked tree bereft of soul,
creaking cracked in this foul wind.
Strangled without mercy,
and wrenched away from Spring.

Wrapped around the purest heart,
of finest elm and oldest oak.
A vicious corrupt entanglement,
and in certainty will life die.

Yet all pain and sorrow,
must surely wax and wane.
As the turning of the tide
brings hope to one and all.

All dead must fall and heed no words,
of careless thought and wicked mind.
For even as the sun does set,
the stars shine out their brightest yet.


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