by Lizz Kessler

Created on: April 16, 2009

Wooded Fate

The leaves that surround me taste so dry...

They rustle around my head that pounds in sync with my dying heart

It lays next to me in my hand, bruised.

This blackened bark, it smells of death.

It chills me and smells horrid, I want to hold my breath,

But I keep the air I have deep inside; it's all that I have.

The silence deafens me and scares me almost into my demise,

But I keep holding on; the wind whispers to keep my insanity at bay

I calm at its tranquil sound, and relax in the arms of this dirt.

I become one with this nature and ease away with time

Where I am carried on the wind to my place of bliss,

My place, of bliss and happiness.

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