THE TREE

Wind blows to make you dance.

I dance too.

The greed of individuality turns a man
Into a tree..

We stand, cheer -
Standing beside each other,
Staying million miles away.

Deep underneath the mossy ground.
Roots caress each other -
With the coldness of chains
Searching for the essence of life
In the soil.

Yesterday somebody hit nails
Onto my scarred face.
You danced  -
Tune of the wind.

We are separate individuals, now.

But
Deep underneath the mossy ground.
Roots still caress each other -
With the coldness of chain.
                  
~Wrik~
                   
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