i.
we stood our ground
among the deserted trees
with our arms outstretched,
fingertips pointing to
the dead and forgotten hills
like the bare branches,
and our naked bodies
firmly rooted down.

ii.
the bitter cold seeped into
our veins, making our tender
skin become dry and flaky,
crumbling with each blow of the wind;
making our hard-working heart
slow down and its beats
reverberating against the drums
in our ears until they become soft taps.

iii.
wilted plants and weeds learned
to grow around us, just as rocks
eroded under and between our toes,
along with vermin that quietly nibbled
on our emotionless eyes;
there we stood, very still like
scarecrows- except we were real beings
exiled from society for being different.