Desolation collides with life

As the end of light draws nearer and nearer,

the tree begins to brace itself.

The nights find themselves much less clearer,

the tree now knows it must lessen its shelf.

Instead of the rain falling from the sky,

an array of leaves coat the atmosphere.

Among the winds they float up high,

whispering chills is all they can hear.

The stump that once was so green,

is now as colorless as the night.

All the life is now replaced by such a lonely scene.

The barren form is a grief-stricken site.

And even though this silent giant has nothing,

it dreams that light again will persist.

Sooner or later the world will sing,

And the soul the tree had will no longer be missed.

The vivacity of the tree will soon overpower,

any darkness will cease to be.

Now the leaves atop look like a frozen green shower,

The strength is here, and will always be.