The years are withering,
the wind blows down the leaves.
Man stands under the eave,
and overhear the secrets,
of the cold dry winds,
of the tall bare trees.
The grasses are tall and tinted,
like straw gold hues of dryness,
and the awesome awereness,
with the dusty road a scatter,
with pools of colourful leave,
with ghost of the dreaming.
Soon, soon the fire,
the fire will begin to burn,
the hawk will flatter and turn,
on it's wing and swoop for the mouse,
the dog will run for the hare,
the mouse for it's little life.!!!
This poem relates to what is happening in our world today. Wars every where. The world itself will definitely wearout so why the killing and oppression in this little and short life that we have.
Let love one another and live a life of peace and serenity.
As for me 馃憞