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 scarry face.
You danced  -
Tune of the wind.

We are seperate individuals, now.

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

~ Wrik ~