Like a decaying old tree.

Photo by Julia Volk on

It’s really where,
I am right now,
Again and again,
After all the battles,

Imagining the blue sky,
Filled with clouds,
As the wind blows,
Brushing the grass,

But in reality,
I’m in this dry land,
Draught in emotion,
And craving attention,

As the will slowly fades,
Like a decaying old tree.


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