The wind whispering through the threadbare trees
The blossoms all fallen, the leaves long gone
No bird sound to fill the air, all now far to the south
A boundless desolate landscape, barren and awash
The bright days of yesterday, now dimmed and demure
Stark and almost silent, hard edged and cool

Faint echoes of the past bringing pain to my ears
A fear that what is lost, no more than misguided dream
The frantic search beginning, for any last sign at all
Of the boundless life, the fresh new growth
For any life at all

Breathless now, exhausted and weak
I drop to the sand dry ground
As tears explode and questions come
Is this the end times now

I sit here on this cold dry ground, arms wrapped around my knees
My eyes awash, they cannot see, I miss what’s in front of me
For the world awakes, the change is come
The first snow begins to fall

Steve ‘Easy’ Whitacre September 13th, 2007

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