Between his yes and no
All that as left of her
Was her parched tired soul
The bud that he checked for if she doe or if she does not
Lay on the dusty track
Withered
Countless times he ripped to see if it would still feel the pain
Robbed of the branch
That tended to her
She gazed blankly
Felt the dust
Silently dying
No comments:
Post a Comment