your time of despair has finally come
where you must decide what is right or wrong
but don’t act like you didn’t see it approaching
like a hanging tree branch off that oak trudging
although in the distance
it peaks above the other nimble trees and those catastrophic leaves
the months and steps go by
not a moment will pass
where they’ll cease to remember
i promise i won’t forget
ill remember the pattern of intertwining branches
like your golden locks
atop your twining head
what else can i do
but accept the nostalgia
that lines the four corners of my room
we’ll mourn the loss of that poor branch
that fell when i whispered those words
who knew that years could pass
along the glass rope of time
its all irrelevent
or is it relative?
its as opposing as my thoughts and words were that ethereal evening
-
megra posted this
