czwartek, października 27, 2005



Torn from my roots,
Left by myself to wither,
Taken away from my source
Of life, water.

By this lonely tree I stand,
Rootless and poor.
All that's left is this
Wooden door, to eternity.

But as I drift away
I find... a friend?
Also torn...

A falling leaf
Ripped from his womb,
Drifting away, with me.

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