Wind picks up as dark clouds overtake blue sky,
A shift in the World that has me asking why?
People come and go without seeing
The silent tears I cry.
Light dies in the oncoming storm,
The Power of it all creates in me a kind of high.
Wind whips around me, ruffles my hair,
As I watch the World slowly die.
While hail rains down and pounds the ground
On a bed of leaves I lie.
Silence washes over the country side,
As I whisper my Good-Bye.
No comments:
Post a Comment