spoiled roots cling to the core of the earth
They weep silently
and their laments turn the bark into rot
the branches are tired
they bend and they break
Making slivers in the doomed sky
They are the architects of the motes filled with woe
They pretend that they are reaching for life
They are caving in.
Mimicking the writhing of one another
Dreariness,
deeper than The violent ocean,
As Angry as the raging waves
That abuse & abandon the shore
Slumped,
Unnoticed,
Vacuous,
I am.
The hollow shell falls
The soil cradles such a deplorable frame
What a wretch I must be.
In a world of rue