The trail that many walked
has disappeared amongst the brambles.
The shadows quivered in the charisma
Of the hidden stars.
The baleful bed of wildflowers cushioned his pain,
Like chilly hands keeping him afloat,
and the balance is perfectly maintained.
The leaves and petals tickled his arms,
The fingers grasped tighter until an ache bloomed.
The bliss of sleep fluttered away
Like a bullet from a gun.
He’s pulled below,
Farther and farther until he is none.
Until he was swallowed by the dewy verdant,
By the loving embrace of the ground.
The trees around him are distraught mothers.
Their pine limbs longing to hug him
But they cannot bend as their willow sisters can.
Instead, they stand tall, spread out to the brim.
But they should have no fear,
Soon he’ll be out of sight
And out of the graspings hands
of the ones who fight.
