Pantomime7
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Apr 13, 2004
- Messages
- 291
Leaves crackle beneath my feet
And I feel the earth shift ever so slightly
As I ponder my existence under
The withered branches of The Elm.
Flies of pestilence buzz by my face
And a small itch captivates my mind....
Who am I?
Pondering this, I listen...
To the perfect blue water which slowly escapes behind me
To the rustle of the wind as it breathes,
And to the clouds as they journey through space.
My eyes wander past the deer as it quietly grazes to my left,
And the spider which slowly winds it's way across my face.
Why was I created?
I may never know
But in this serene place
I listen to the sweet whisper of the wind calling my name.
What am I to do as The Elm sways above my head?
Suddenly the air becomes heavy and dark and my will breaks with a sharp snap.
I hear no longer the sweet lullaby of the forest as I find myself on my knees.
On the cold soil of the earth.
My eyes, find their way through confusion,
And Rest upon the anchor of my soul
Broken and withered.
But as I watch, it slowly begins to die
And with it I slump and crumble into dust.
The wind steadies and is calm.
Yet without warning, it breathes once more,
Taking with it the ashes of my life my memory, my soul......
Taking with it The ashes of The Elm.
And I feel the earth shift ever so slightly
As I ponder my existence under
The withered branches of The Elm.
Flies of pestilence buzz by my face
And a small itch captivates my mind....
Who am I?
Pondering this, I listen...
To the perfect blue water which slowly escapes behind me
To the rustle of the wind as it breathes,
And to the clouds as they journey through space.
My eyes wander past the deer as it quietly grazes to my left,
And the spider which slowly winds it's way across my face.
Why was I created?
I may never know
But in this serene place
I listen to the sweet whisper of the wind calling my name.
What am I to do as The Elm sways above my head?
Suddenly the air becomes heavy and dark and my will breaks with a sharp snap.
I hear no longer the sweet lullaby of the forest as I find myself on my knees.
On the cold soil of the earth.
My eyes, find their way through confusion,
And Rest upon the anchor of my soul
Broken and withered.
But as I watch, it slowly begins to die
And with it I slump and crumble into dust.
The wind steadies and is calm.
Yet without warning, it breathes once more,
Taking with it the ashes of my life my memory, my soul......
Taking with it The ashes of The Elm.
Last edited:
