A broken World

The wind howls down through the trees,

not another soul in sight.

The wolves cry out their music,

to the fading, pale moonlight.

The trees they shift,  whisper

and sigh

As the leaves are claimed 

by the swirling sky.

As the colour drains,

the feelings leak.

And all thats left

is a hollow, dead and bleak.

Reality is

ripped to shreds.

And hung upon,

the thinnest threads.

The words on pages,

crumble down.

Revealing all thats left.

I look up now,

and see your face.

And bury the fire inside.

The End

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