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Aug 2015
Be at peace,
Creature of earth and oak
Your brittle, soft bark
Painted a deep crimson,
With limbs curling, retreating to their root.
And whose buds wither in the dry,
Desolate province: “home”.

Do you remember the monsters,
Trampling over vein and chute,
That grew larger with every word they spoke,
Till soon their dark shapes stood high above,
Their mass and form eclipsing the light,
Leaving only a sliver to feed you?

I remember a shape formed with care,
Whose trunk was strong,
And resilient as steel!
But, Chiseled and reduced
By philosophy and temptation,
It became a thing I couldn’t recognize.
A corpse that shone of good intention,
With marks of wisdom and ingenuity,
Abandoned, forgotten in time.

Do you remember the forest,
Where brother and sister once stood firmly?
Their unfortunate fortitude rendered them ideal
For the beasts’ machines,
And made kindling for the nightmares
You had when you were small.

I remember a young seedling,
Who sacrificed friendship and comfort
For a little shelter from the cold.
And now lives in darkness
And has been for so long,
That a candle is mistaken for the sun!
A faint, false, glow is all I have to illuminate my life!

With age, and of circumstance,
My eyes grow weak,
And this heart will expends its stores
To chase the promise of reprieve,
Offered by a lie of ever-changing form,
And striking, beautiful melody.
Written by
Josh Highfield
446
 
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