It was cold
Night crawled upon the shoulders…
Of the dusty hill
The fog crept silently
Pacing upon the moist grass…
He stood there, alone,
Fighting his demons, rioting…
Against the heavy threads
Hanging loosely from his heart…
It was then he knew
Life would not spare her
And she was to die in his arms…
Her soft breath pounding closely to his…
The forest was cruel…
No flower would therefore blossom…
Earth and sky both sang
Their monotonous tune…
Alone, in the demur of time…