A Golden Tree


Amber colored leaves,
On a dried dying tree.
Are crying for a shower ,
To breathe properly.
The birds no more cherish the trees,
And the branches
No more remember their tweet.
The leaves are not willing,
To leave the tree.
They know it won't be alive,
Until the next autumn breeze.
The spring mai wither,
The soul of this tree.
The tree remembering
His every blossom,
May perish in peace,
Under the golden flames of sins,
Which never were his.
- Mitali Pandey

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