Tuesday, October 26, 2010

The Fall


Swaying in the breeze, gently
The evening air descending slowly
Sparrows suddenly shrieked wildly
The first blow landing heavily

At the root of my land,
I feel the pain, I feel my heart
Children in tears upon the sand
Thoughts differ and actions part

Chips come flying, my blood not seen
Hitting again at my suffering bark
To brown they turn, my paling green
Helpless and hurt, I cried in the dark

Hunger and hatred, in the air; hung
In the balance. Tales of blood forgot
Of the peaceful days, were songs sung
With passion, all an empty stomach got

Unconscious, I dangerously did swerve
Falling unto the ground, my all and whole
In fright and death, my leaves a curve
Leaves shall wither and bark to coal

Near the fall, the mind grows numb
To fate, all tamely bend, no art to defend
The voices in shock, shall all go dumb
The era of my land, reaching it's loud end.

Painting by Charles Thevenin