Amid my life I stand again
Mistaken but unabashedly obdurate
My leaves, carried by the wind
Will never touch the moderate
Obscurity is still my favourite zeal
Security forsaken; I can feel
The nauseating perfume of the past
With dulcet settled lives that nest
Upon my branches, undisturbed
By my inveterate unrest
Amid the fields I stand alone
My roots are deep, my leaves are gone
A Tree
© Copyright: Sada, 2003
Свидетельство о публикации №103032801350
Свидетельство о публикации №103032801350
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