The Last Leaf

The Last Leaf

~*~*~

Swaying to the rhythm of the breeze,
The solitary leaf, hung by its stem,
Orange, crinkled, a little naïve,
Though it had lived to see the winter,
And had watched as his brothers left him behind.

It remembered the song of the Nightingale,
As it sung through the night,
Its song heard by few, but still sung with much blithe
Sitting nearby on the very same tree,
Oh, the nostalgia had set in much too clearly.

A home the leaf had, and many friends too,
Rustling in the wind, whispering with trees,
And thinking, just thinking of forgotten memories,
Life was a lively affair with many changes unseen,
But always felt as one season changed to another.

Winter was upon the horizon, waiting to lash down,
A chilling breeze left the solitary leaf astound
But he held on, with all his might,
That someday he may see the dear sunlight,
And be surrounded once again with rustling laughter.

Alas, with a gust of wind, the end had arrived,
His crinkled stem could hang on no longer,
And he was blown into the sky, far out and above,
He knew now what it felt to fly and touch the clouds,
Before he slowly fluttered to the ground, content.

~*~*~

Lessons

Wandering

~*~*~

Here we stand, like lost souls,
Stranded on the island of our inner thoughts,
With nowhere to go, and nothing to take us away
From the Tempest wrecking havoc
When all we long for is some clarity.

We go on living, without a care
For the dreams that made us who we are
The same which we buried underground
Like treasure hidden beneath the sand
We pine for it, but it is lost, and cannot be found.

Life has a way of teaching us
To adapt as times passes us by
By becoming colder and more indifferent
Towards even what we once felt strongly for
Until someday we have no feelings left at all.

/*Yet somehow, the numbness almost fades
When it comes down to you,
If even for only a moment, it’s all I need…
For now.*/

Faces come and go, like the pages of a dull book,
Read too fast, without peeping in between the lines,
Or really trying to comprehend what has been said,
Yet each word has been glanced at, each letter sounded out,
And we claim we have understood everything.

Disillusionment is the easiest road to choose,
When facing a fork in the State of Confusion,
It seems well lit, but the night is long and dark,
The sun never rises, the moon never sets
And we are prone to stumbling, a little too often.

The journey becomes a compromise
We make one step at a time, one event at a time,
Choosing necessity over our aspirations,
Picking mediocrity in a life we never wanted,
Over the excellence we could have achieved.

Still they tell us to dream, to dream big,
But I’ve lost mine, they fell out from my pocket,
Unnoticed, as they softly fluttered to the ground,
But all hope is not lost, for there must be a way,
To rediscover dreams, and start a sincere chase.

It is time to unlearn, and rebuild.

~*~*~

The Bridge

The Bridge

~*~*~

The bridge stood, undaunted by the wind,
Tethered by ropes, withered by the rain,
Forgotten in the heart of the forest,
Waiting for the end to visit it again.

Civilizations came up, to be razed to the ground,
Weathered destroyed, fire pillaged, thus harmed,
With ash to dust, and tears unbound,
Forsaken by the very pillars that made them.

Human form became a mere whisper,
Muffled under a thousand layers of dust,
Grown over by the sound of a whimper,
Rustling leaves mingled with the song of dear rust.

The footprints were hidden under ruins,
Soon decayed and faded into the earth,
Only for tree roots and dry leaves to be cleared again,
For the coming of a new king and hope’s dearth.

The bridge stood, undaunted by the wind,
Tethered by ropes, withered by the rain,
Discovered in the heart of the forest,
The end was here, the end of its pain.

~*~*~