Sometimes, I wish I could create something out of love, out of peace or happiness. This is hard for me to do. I find it better that my gothic and darker way of looking at things can get the message across better. This one has been in my head for quite some time, I just didn’t know how to start it, nor did I know of a flow that could keep it from collapsing midway through. Mainly, this was random, I just began thinking of the idea and let it turn in my head. What I came up with, became the end result. Comments are open.
Dead Trees
Winter
Snow
Cold
Night.
The swing creaks
On the slow
Steady wind.
The moon
Is out
Bright
It is.
In peace
And silence
No one lives here
Anymore.
Whereas once
Happiness
Used to roam free.
Happiness
Is hard
To come by
Now.
The rusty playground
The untidy grass
The snow
That hasn’t been touched.
Since
A fallout
It killed everything.
Yet the trees
Seem to be
The only living things.
But
They are not
Full of life.
They merely
Just stand there
Broken
Destroyed.
But covered
In the beauty
Of snow.
It’s quite
A shame
That they once
Bloomed in green.
Where birds
Used to roam
Where the air
Was crisp
And clean.
Nothing but
Polluted air
Under polluted skies.
The dead trees
Sway
In a dead breeze.
Currently there are no comments related to "Dead Trees". You have a special honor to be the first commenter. Thanks!
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!
