THE WORDS OF MY SILENCE [poems]

THE DEAD TREE

Standing here all alone in a place I don't belong.
Watching the fallen leaves and the dead trees so long and strong.
I think I'm no different. Just a dead tree.
Broken inside but appear wild and free.

So fake; hit me and I crumble down.
So delicate; can easily lose a piece of mine.
No shade, no fruit, So sad that I'm of no use,
Just cut me down and free me out these blues.

Hold on! I looked at it again
The memories of the Spring still remain.
So green and gleeful just like I once was.
But then the Fall came on and so did the scars.

A warm wind blew, ruffling the dead leaves out the quietness.
There it goes, the last leaf falls into the darkness.
Even with nothing left, it looks majestic.
So massive and gigantic, reflecting the traces of life; ironic.

Now I see it in another way, enduring the worse it stayed unfaltered.
Holding on to the hope, it's persistence remained unaltered.
I think I'm no different, Just a dead tree.
Crying away the pain and waiting for the Spring that sets me free.

Maybe this is what Life is,
The days pass and they'll never be the same.
If we wait a little longer, Everything will change.
And the Life shall blossom once the Spring comes again.

-Laxmi Bhargavi Golla.