Reaching out to the sky,
like hands outstretched in despair,
my naked branches encroach the frigid air above.
Under the overcast bearing a bleak expression,
my mind topples with burdens of angst.
To the ruthless gales that sway me from side to side,
I breathe hurried whispers of feisty words;
perhaps they’d help me brave the squall.
I worry I’d simply evanesce from where I stand.
The silence that now inundates me from within,
will it engulf even my absence?
Or will the space I fill, just be callously refilled?
Will my personality be judged?
Will my lack of strength be delated to the unimpressive world?
How I wish I’d have my story be told,
in a way that it would tug many a heartstrings.
I now hold on to the slightest sliver of hope,
in this wide forgetful world,
that the perfume of my existence,
will fill the senses of souls I’ve never met;
that they stumble upon my roots long after I’m gone;
to find that I’ve lived, I’ve loved and I’ve laughed;
that I’ve been sentient through it all.
This fills me with joy akin to none,
for, it feels like just for a moment here,
I’ve cheated death and have lived another breath!