A tree sat forlorn on its empty hill,
Master of all that it sees
And seeing nothing.
The joy of youth and alacrity of opportunity had long since fled its form,
Away from a world both sinless and sinful.
For the sky hung cloudy on soul of the Earth and soul of the human,
Though both had long since ceased an agonizing existence.
Gone was self-serving and erecting vain statues in the one's own honor,
But so was the light, starved by the trenches of death.
Only the gentle pushes of the wind, sifting through the tree’s soul towards its fall kept company,
A grim reminder that all life must end.
If trees could weep, a weeping willow would,
But its sobs were muffled and silenced by the creeping hand of the mist
As it crept over the tree’s back where it could not see.
It stretched the curtain of unknowingness over its eyes and the skeletal acceptance
Of the Grim Reaper himself reached beyond the tree’s visage and almost soothingly
Rested his hand upon the mouth and pulled the soul like one would stretch yarn being woven,
Out of its lonely perch and into the blank air.
For the tree could not bear to continue grasping at a world that was no more and finally was no longer,
Bound by Mother Nature’s lightning strike of the ground, the roots.
God finally took back his final angel up to Heaven
And left a world in solitude
Because an era had ended.
.....
I wrote this on a whim when I was half asleep, but I thought others might enjoy it, despite all its flaws. ^^' My other poems will be better, and they'll rhyme, for one. Please, tell me what you think! I'm a little unsure at the moment, but I might continue uploading a bunch of little poems on this thread for others to see.
Master of all that it sees
And seeing nothing.
The joy of youth and alacrity of opportunity had long since fled its form,
Away from a world both sinless and sinful.
For the sky hung cloudy on soul of the Earth and soul of the human,
Though both had long since ceased an agonizing existence.
Gone was self-serving and erecting vain statues in the one's own honor,
But so was the light, starved by the trenches of death.
Only the gentle pushes of the wind, sifting through the tree’s soul towards its fall kept company,
A grim reminder that all life must end.
If trees could weep, a weeping willow would,
But its sobs were muffled and silenced by the creeping hand of the mist
As it crept over the tree’s back where it could not see.
It stretched the curtain of unknowingness over its eyes and the skeletal acceptance
Of the Grim Reaper himself reached beyond the tree’s visage and almost soothingly
Rested his hand upon the mouth and pulled the soul like one would stretch yarn being woven,
Out of its lonely perch and into the blank air.
For the tree could not bear to continue grasping at a world that was no more and finally was no longer,
Bound by Mother Nature’s lightning strike of the ground, the roots.
God finally took back his final angel up to Heaven
And left a world in solitude
Because an era had ended.
.....
I wrote this on a whim when I was half asleep, but I thought others might enjoy it, despite all its flaws. ^^' My other poems will be better, and they'll rhyme, for one. Please, tell me what you think! I'm a little unsure at the moment, but I might continue uploading a bunch of little poems on this thread for others to see.
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Thank you very much, I hoped that it would achieve that sort of feeling while I wrote it. ^^' I will, however, edit it; my big complaint with the poem in the first place was the run-on middle, so it's nice to have concrete reasons to change it now!
