The tree withers, lightening blasted its trunk

In silent trails of trickling tears,

warts moan over the fallen epic.

Splashing seeds from dormancy appear-

A prelude to crumple the leafy relic.

The warts moan over that fallen epic;

birds twitter, faint streaks knock on the lush vane.

Hissing, crumples crunch on the leafy relic,

twining and twisting up the trunk.

In birds’ twitter, faint streaks glisten upon the lush vane:

lives bloom, fresh in stamens and petals -

twining and twisting ascends the trunk,

kissing the dead and tattered by scarlet blossoms.

New lives blossom in stamens and petals;

petals descend into mud of the lawn -

dead, tattered, once kissed by scarlet blooms,

sprinkles of spring streaming down.

Forever dwell in mud of the lawn:

How fantastic it is to decease in such a rhythm.

Sprinkles of spring sprinting down,

winds rush by, pushing on the dead end.

How fantastic it is to decease in such a rhythm!

Face up, flowers aside, huddled in brushing flows:

The winds rush by - elegy to a new entry:

a stream that thrives against the eternity of the night.

Lying face up, flowers aside, embraced in bruising flames:

The new tree fallen, vanes stemming, leaves crumpled upon stemming buds.

Thrive! Against the eternity of the night!

Oh, how fantastic it is to decease in such a rhythm, amongst the end and round so peacefully a blast!