The tears drifted by the wind,
Moist, and lifeless
Every branch rains their own personal hell
Calm, and quenched
Stones with fleeting fuel rises once again
Rough, and relaxed
Collectively despising growth,
For their roots were stolen,
mingling in winched teeth
Craving another fresh meal;
Life they can’t receive anymore
In another time I may have felt those woes,
of a tree that never grows
bent onto the backs of ruthless creators
Forgotten like yesterdays roads
ancient, and slow
Epilogue:
Thanks For Reading
Comment any suggestions or thoughts down below
Follow for more content from me and
Have a nice morning/day/night
The Nameless Collective 