I will use your tears
to water my mind,
and grow you a poem
Anytime that you cry

Stillness in the lake;
The hills are dumb till their death;
Silently I walk

all I ask of you,
don't buy me flowers.
take me to a garden.
for I get sad when they die.
when they are ripped
from their roots
in the ground.
their time for
growing is up.
they can no longer
have conversations
with the sun
or the grass
or the rain
as it kisses them
so softly.

We make. We destroy.
We laugh, dine, and wine.
We cry amidst woes and pain.
Yes, we merry. We toil.
We pray .We sin and soil
We dream of paradise.
We fall. We rise.
We love. We hate.
We live. We mate.
But lo and behold
The shadow fades into abyss
And our lousy, hurried footsteps
Are no longer heard.